I had
wished
to write
for the one
I cherished,
If only
I had
known
of how  
expression
of oneself
was not
as simple,
to paint the
complex
nature  
of human
feeling and
thoughts in
written form
could not
possibly
be only
held,
for they
are the
clouds
of my
esse
in flight,
even if
the words
were
written,
they remain
unwritten
as the
pages are
endless,
as the  
eyes of
the one
I see
as mine,
I sat
by the
ocean,
the
lantern
of the
sky
rises,
the one
I loved
now
sings,
I ask not
when he
gives,
tears
fall
for the
one
who
was
there
before
my lips
spoke
his name,
always.

word worrier
word wanderer
caught impossible
thought entirely
lexicographer extraordinaire
except for those I’m dumb on
like Floccinaucinihilipilification
which could mean
anythang x

where does the poet go,
when everything is right?

where does the poet go,
when there are no words left to write?

Someone's story just ended in
page fifty-three
The pen fell and no one can pick it up to
start again
The last goodbye is an unfinished line in
chapter eight
Phantom words will be this story's only
friend
"Hello" is now forgotten where the ink bleeds
"the end"
Nobody knows when their acknowledgements go next…

Hope swerving; bending my thoughts of life
in it's curving lane. A game of gain, that not everybody
wants to play. Escaping from the day, or days; looking
for change in these ancestral chains. These are the shackles, keeping me in constant battle. Wearing my weight as a satchel; I constantly have to dismantle myself; to reach the top of successes great mantle.

Life's a rattle; shaking you at the core. Follow it's lore; and
be careful not break all of it's many laws. You'll get so many scars, and sores. Opening moments, opening and closing doors;
as you constantly walk along on life's floors with your flaws.
Happy moments galore; but also the saddest ones creeping up
on the low.

You'll cry to the Lord of it all; His lifting spirit keeps you up
when the soul falls. He's a calming voice to all of His children
he calls. You'll be in awe, letting Him guide you to where you
need to go. A lot of what he does you can't ignore. "Be patient
child; there's a lot in store. Blessed are the poor."

There's no valley too deep, or it's mountains to tall. But life
has it's many walls; we all have to face. Cracking knuckles
a couple times, till that wall breaks. It's not a mistake, or a
place to misplace how far you've come from that starting place.
Whether from the maybe, or maybe not; of the choices you've made. We've each got our choices to make.

Love grips the crowd like a glove. Some that are fed sweet nothings, while others starve. All the lights of these stars; like rushing traffic in space. Rushing like cars in a chase. Love feels like a rush of a race; trying to keep those emotions going straight in it's lane. Wild hearts trying to keep tame, with their hormones often the one's to blame. "Such a shame."

It's the rush of love; but is it enough to love someone more than you can give? To live only on the feelings love gives; wanting all
that's out there, but refusing to give in. Giving it at your best;
but ask a lover about their ex. They'd say, "my current is the best from the rest." What can you expect; of a lover's treasured love buried deep down in their chest?

An itch at the neck; nerves telling me to double check at my deck. Just in case my next play has me going, "what the heck!"

What's my next calling card in this play game of gain? Seems I'm
back at it's start once again.