question mark eyes,
dust specked with
anguished lies.

his graceless feet
are always dancing
but not to his soul's beat.

songs sung with unknown
notes, so he drowns himself
in the bars that are shown.

perhaps one day, he'll
read the sheet music,
but for now he's still
dancing to the mysterious
tune and he always will.

stuck with what he's got,
tortured by what he sought.

that's the tune of the world.

crystalized veins,
and a moon rock heart--
only shooting myself in the foot,
but i like to watch the blood
flow. the stubborn
stalk doesn't need
water to grow.
fool of my own
demise, but you
have to die to
reach heaven.
so i'll stick to my
guns no matter
what.

stony feet,
traipsed the streets
of Nepal--
home of homes.
my hearts is
encrusted
in the Himalayas.
misted mornings
with a cup of
hot chai
free my soul.
one day I know
I will return
to my home.
until then, I'm
stuck dreaming
and reminiscing
about the past
days. one day
i'll find my
heart again.

wrinkles of fire,
parting the atmospheric
sea surrounding.
lost within
the flame,
i watch my troubles
flowing
into the smoke,
drifting into
the wind,
dancing upon
the void.
floating ever upwards,
whispering
my troubles
to the transcendent
ears of the
angles that hide
in the spaces
of silence and
the moments
of darkness
between the stars.

i see you in the silence
and the blanks of
mind. crazy how violence
says more about love
and its power. the contrast
is fading unlike your
eyebrows, and the last
drop of sanity hits the floor.
thoughts of you as
your actual presence,
because your absence has
finished its evanescence.

traveler of souls, a
looking glass shattered,
the infected cracks
murmur to my eyes,
telling me more
about myself
than the
reflection.