It is not that of getting lost in the spirals of the wall, those patterns and faces, making shapes from basic dots and strange angles in places.
Imagination straining.
This is dissociation, it is no joke of wow that fan looks nice
But I really just lost my sense of self in this life.
The surrounding surfaces were not real even with my hands on it’s surface
Was this fire really burning, those candles melting?
All I see is glass burning, charred over black ash.
Tell me dear
Do you stand in doorways feeling dizzy because the reality is crumbling and that sense of smell does nothing
It lingers with this annoying sweetness
Yet the candles keep these levels grounded
It is looking in the mirror and not being able to recognize who is seen
Is that me breathing? Am I touching the sink, is my face so strange to look this way.
Some days feel normal and others I have no sense of taste
Imagine those sweet desserts no longer having flavor
We will cry at this frightened state, the world does no favors.
But here we are also aware that this is real despite how it feels, maybe I am magic
Sage my beloved hated name.
Who are you? Why don't you ask the world the same.

you can feel the love in his fingertips when he touches you
when his lips press against your skin
he never has to say it
he doesn't need to

a story with a beginning so
      ordinary
            unintentional
                  insignificant
we weren't lucky enough to be written a worthy end

i wish we had something to blame for what is missing
      immortality
            infinity
                  ­forever
but we have always taken the road less traveled

compiling to an unfinished tale violently bursting with
      but-what-ifs
            i-wish-i-hads
               ­   maybe-somedays
i will recite the idea of you until your finger prints vanish from my brain

you read me everything yet left me begging in vain for
      explanations
            truths
                  insig­hts
i wonder what beauty we could have created

This time of ours
Reminds me of all that I have
And all that I have lost at the same time,
The many-faced memories
Flow like tears
That come more easily
And unexpectedly now
Like the ghosts of loved ones
In a fever dream.

Sometimes i'm taken aback by how much i love you
By how deeply i feel for you
You make my chest ache and my lungs burn
I wish i could make you understand my feelings for you
But truth be told
Even i don’t

we lay here together,
the sunlight, just beginning to peak in through the curtains
reflects off your cheek, encircling you in an angelic glow.
a single gentle curl on your forehead is lit gold by the light
acting as a benevolent midas; turning only the purest.
as my fingers softly graze over your skin, you sigh,
almost waking.

I’d never seen the beauty in mornings before you,
always such cold, miserable affairs.
tearing sleep from my eyes,
in a rush to stay on time, always
late.
for me, beauty was always in the evening, the dusk sun
sinking below the horizon and lighting the sky in its pinky rainbow.

as we lay here together,
I can’t begin to remember why I didn’t like mornings.