In love, nothing exists between heart and heart.
Speech is born out of longing,
True description from the real taste.
The one who tastes, knows;
the one who explains, lies.
How can you describe the true form of Something
In whose presence you are blotted out?
And in whose being you still exist?
And who lives as a sign for your journey?

Thank you
for removing yourself
from my day to day Life.

I can't say I would have made that choice, but
I'm sure ******* glad I now don't have to;
I'm sure ******* glad to have my headspace back.


This isn't an attack;
it's a sigh of relief
on some levels.

This isn't surrender;
it's a work in progress
on some levels.

This isn't excommunication;
it's a period of change
on lots of levels.

I'm sure you can understand that.

It takes me Time to come to terms with the things I find within my Mind;
it doesn't help that a lot of Entropy has been introduced;
pardon me for taking my sweet-*** Time.

I know I can express myself abrasively,
but, you see,
Life is abrasive.

I find
abrasive expression itself
can be cathartic, when
existence itself
is abrasive.

This isn't an attack,
this isn't surrender,
this isn't excommunication,
this is a period of renewal and growth;

moving onward
moving forward
moving upward
moving inward

all at once.

I hope you can understand;
I, myself, tend to forget,
believe it or not.

Is it really such a weird thing
to want to get into a person's Mind
and to see their Mind laid bare before me
and to see what they are capable of doing with it,
before I want to get into a person's pants
and to see their Body laid bare before me
and to see what they are capable of doing with it?

Bitter-sweetly,
it makes it that much rarer to get tail
when Brains and the capacity to use them
are prerequisites.

Nonetheless,
I wouldn't have it any other way;
I value certain things too much,
though I do also have Desires;
that's where Self-Discipline comes in.

"Growing Up"
is a Euphemism
for gaining the capacity
for more Responsibility.

It can be said
that by this definition;
very few seem to grow up.

They tell us
that to "grow up"
means to **** up to the Man (in essence)
and to learn to pay the Man's dues;
far too many grow up
by this definition.

Please;
attain an edified perspective
enough to be trusted
with your own free will,
That is to say;
"grow up"

The silence is deafening
Almost materialized
As he finalizes
One last good bye
How many more years will lapse? surpass so fast
At the speed of sound
With so much left unsaid
So much to regret
So much to over analyze
Time and time again.
The way your eyes meet mine
From across the room
Inevitable, yet that smile
Still renders me hopeless
Completely paralyzed
How words descend effortlessly from your lips
Yet speech escapes me
For how could words ever do justice to a smile
That zapps every cell
ignited
Electrified

Clear off the bed
and come lie next to me
or lie with me
or crawl under these sheets
and die with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clear out your mind
and sink down low with me
or get high with me
or hold my hand
and lose some time with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean up your act
and fall apart with me
or fall, apart from me
or fall, a part of me
and take some time to cry with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Clean out your car
and run away with me
or run to me
or put it in reverse
and go back to the start with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could get used to this

Cleanse your spirit
and embrace this pain with me
or brace for pain with me
or take a moment to put me back together
and just be with me, with me
or without
I'm used to it
but I could still get used to this

I wanted to write a thing
so lyrical and poetic and true,
yet the best I can seem to muster
is but a gut-wrenching "*******."