You are a metaphor
       Of love given meaning.
For your every breath
      Is a syllable of the heart.

And your words are reflections,
        In a mind that gains from
The simplistic nouns and vowels
                             That speak to me

               From your heart.

And I have seen paradise before
It was a heaven of ideological
proportions
located
on the junction
of childhood and interstates
of man and youth, with marble floors
and distant speakers echoing drops off of
cell phone booths
and older people
selling things for us to buy
to find ourselves happy in the moment
deep cascading waterfalls

Is this heaven?

When a child it's all you see
the white and pedicured purity
of a waxed granite floor,
the impersonal monotony
feeling a soul in a world unknown
the closest thing to dreaming
Old T.Vs selling like hotcakes
buy it while it's new!

Gameboy games, pokemon on the tele
silent in the face of some strange musician
playing unworded tunes you'll recognize later
their focus-grouped chords left somewhere in your mind
for you to hum when bored

Everything was perfect, then?
was it?

Those same malls don't sparkle
no more

maybe it's just the grime of life
blocking the mirrored measure of my childhood soul
lost amidst the echoes
the sweet music of truth
bouncing off of the uncolored walls
a send-off of my youth

Maybe when we go back, one day
the walls won't be quite so grey
they'll be power-washed with light,
shine better than ever before,
nothing to buy but our happiness
somewhere in those hallowed halls
searching those windows into other lives
hoping to find the key to our soul
to leave this silly Sphere and
Roebuck
our boat back out the sliding door
-windows
back out into the real world,
no longer dreaming.

You forget my name
I’ll say it, spell it out, write it down
Repeat that same two-syllable word
You’re quick to forget
Flowers are pretty little things
And all their names must blur together
For you, who cannot speak their language

u don't believe in God but u tell me i'm an angel.
i hear the devil when u speak to me,
when i see the curve of a hip or soft skin between thighs.
your nails painted the colour of your core, your lashes long and wispy.
i think it's too much, you tell me i think too much
and i think you think of kissing me too much.

I have nothing to say.
No words to write;
My brain is blank.
No rhythm to recite.
Why?
Why can’t I talk right now?
I’ve got so much to say.
And yet, I can’t say enough.
The old words have no meaning.
The new words have no value.
Besides...
Words can’t say much;
Actions talk so much more.
And words today have no final say,
Actions stage the show.
But I know you’re too close.
You’re too close.
What can I say to make my heart stay?
I really don’t want to know.