Oh, How I miss the winter well,
The naked branch and deaf new void.
With mind that bends to stay with thee,
To whistle amongst the dying tree.

In sheer spite of lacking time,
This hole I've dug will never fault.
I tried to send you dear for help,
Without the strength of bones held close.

I live upon the burrowed chill,
My limbs of black make way to stay.
To feel the numb that never left,
And light go dim but never wake.

With each breath pressed on,
by the tips of your fingers.
My skin oxidates and peels away.

With every hand me down kiss,
and empty frame of mind.
My heart beats less and less.

With any time I turned away,
to thoughtless tries of change.
My head wished to do the same.

In timeless fashion you held the key,
With quivered lip, between your teeth.

I lay and lay and lay and lay,
But full in sleep ive never fell.

Dreams are all I see of you,
With twisted fate you fell from me.

Now I lay in bed asleep,
Under cold sheets you left for we.

In void of you I set my course,
because of you,  my sight unclear.
In hopeless twists of love and trust,
to where I lay my time and space.

My time is suttle, I need not know.
Its lays in seas, too far from reach.
But seeps into my scars and bone,
Like gas in fire, all at once.

The space I lay is closing up,
like lungs of tar, that fill me in.
broken pieces of you left behind,
to where I lay my space and time.

The streets are ever entranced by the vacant that lives in this world, awakening mischief of mind and liver to crawl where once stood out such people hoping for a tragic paradox of simple lives.

The pain felt isn't enough to feel your interior, and the unbalanced sidewalk paths will eat away at every step forward. Until limb after limb takes its turn on leaving you behind.

The time tick shutters soft, yet whispers in trance a prayer for souls that do not carry a beat. Hollowed bodies seeking to live a life before us in the houses we stay in.

Walls sink in steady drip onto the floor we stood, where stable minds tackle through the early hours. A non motive transcendence of a broken watch now turned forward in time.

Skeltons of houses once loved dance away,
Piercing in and out of view by the trees,
Which fill and grow from the life given.
Breaking down the body in whole.

Given by life now buried underneath.
Life that had a name, a face, a family.
A person who once thought more was out there,
And fell beneath it all to let it grow.

The tattered laid bricks we young reluctantly call home, in gaze to feast to live again as once new lovers tip toe fluttery footsteps toward the desolate vanishing point.

But beginning forward I won't find myself locked between a memory.

Like battered homes of old we do so to find the leaks and breaks. Within withered structures of bone and ice we collect fragments off the pavement to restore.

But as a whole we never were. Like lovers fail to see in bloom.

I watched the sun end your life.
I watched it peak through the windows, evaporating every sin left.
Hands, Mouth, Knees.
I watched the senseless life of carbon shift its bones to glue on clothes.
I watched it pour himself into the vacancy of a littered room.
I watched him tremble as the sight of you.

I watched as he started to hate who he wasn't.
I watched as the world swallowed whole.
Hands, Mouth, Knees.
I watched the bitter wind find the skin he had left.
I watched the trees vine together and burst in his arms.
I watched the bath fill with all he had to give.

I watched time fold backwards, filling him up again.
I watched him lie awake hating the way it feels.
Your hands, His mouth, Your needs.
I watched him paint itself into your perfect vision.
I watched him finish as soon as you left unspoken.
I watched his life faint when a name was never given.

You are the diligently allined space between then and now,
To which I am unlucky to know you exist.

Like time I tend to not know the true way, to see the path as the decedent rivers, placing me boundless advancements in location.

You, an endless train of thought, place me in the constant battle of here and now. As the city we raised blooms of mistrust and attention to self identity.

The time spent knowing only makes it really disappear. The cradle of life steps forward to let you feel insignificance, just as all who truly don't know what day it is. A sheet to start clean.

Pressure builds upon my temple,
Like constant rain on rooftops scattered.
The lamps of life draw conversations out of Windows,
Which pierce the night in constant motion.

A hum from the street builds in lonely hours,
illuminates from the pressing weather in decadence.
Perusing it's subtle cry for more in each step,
Breaking off branches too far up to reach.

I watch the light peer from the evergreen,
With rolling smoke from Windows.
The warmth of it sends heavy breathing,
A lapse in function when all else doesn't work.

One day the view of tracks and country winds,
Will see a broken man with fault in trying.
But the less known way brings the only comfort,
The rack to dry this urge to leave.

To minds that shore upon the resting waves:

Buried by passageways we named.
Circumstance that never had a face,
To better hide the weighted frame.

To bodies that scream at bitter ironies:

That spit out words in hopes that someones listening.
The pity of life's embrace with your decadence.
Breathing in vain is all the same.

To souls that learn the cold will let you in:

A night for bliss forbids the pain.
This summer heat will never settle in,
Reluctant pressure never letting go.

My body might as well be escaping me,
A book on a shelf for nobody else to read.

Delinquents perform instantaneous falls into a tortured well.
Where in seamless fashion increase the heart rates in echoes,
and tell the leaders to walk fast, for we are close behind.

The road to true freedom lies in heart of sinner. where thoughts of lost loves and lifes dance ever so quick to judge me, for I am a holder of sin and triumph and I can never let that go.

They try to say that my salvation will sail above me. That the beauty of the trees and stars were not mine from the start, and that everything ive earned and learned I should be looking up to thanks.

But what we've hold to be true is that my blood should have all the thanks, my heart and my soul are the only things that push me to my next day, and fill my world with what I have to give, and what ive had taken from my life.

The people of my generation have lost there way in thinking for themselves. Mindless bags of bones following the kin before, with no lungs to breathe in the new air. The air of despair and heartbreak, of pain and tourture. The air of lust and love, and the feeling of being alone.

Sharing the falsity of told news they looked up for the blame.
Which told us doing nothing and knowing the same was always best,
and lies kept the mass in the fog, to never see the light.

So we struggle to find a breaking point, never knowing how much torture is enough.

Distance is our only time of trouble.
Along with adolescent dreams and troubling hearts,
Wasting days and nights on overlooking circumstances.
Wishing to be the shelter in your dream last night,
Wanting to feel your hair in my hands.

Sometimes you’re out of reach.
You swear you’re out of control.
But I’ll tell you, darling,
Times like those won’t last forever.
This time apart won’t last forever.

And when those days come around to awake,
Coming home to where we live.
A yellow house on the end of the road.
With a white picket fence that keeps our hearts close,
And a sense of overwhelming love.

Sometimes you’re invested,
On the thought of loneliness.
But I’ll tell you, darling,
Times like those won’t last forever.
This time apart won’t last forever.

Broke me.
So much so that I lost hope in my life.
As if the sky and stars did'nt matter anymore.
It made my breathe feel wasted.
The car ran out of gas.

I learned to forget what love was.
So it could appear again to me.
Without the view of your house.
You tore my first view of love.
But love is hate in one.