Our hands test the night sky
calling all the stars luminous in this
large canvas of midnight blue--
We are an army of the smallest space we
occupy and yet we sought
for the stories the universe foretell.
We find them in the deepest mystery, that
we perhaps, are also a part of it.
Take me on the path we both chase,
let our souls swim in the unknown starscape,
to find beauty within ourselves.

Tonight as I look into your eyes,
I feel like soulgazing.
Here you open your heart
and I binge myself briefly
for we know that time cannot hold still.
You are the ocean that frightens me
yet I remain in the deepest of you.
Your voice turns into a delicate instrument
but is firm and certain.
And as I sail, I no longer see your face only
my soul thrives in yours.
Tonight as I feel you inwardly,
I gather so much of you
and accept.

Pain holds my hand and won't let go,
I blister at his touch, walk weeping
by his side and wake to his embrace.
Pain holds my hand.

Pain holds my hand and won't let go,
I weep beside the river, step into its waters
begging for relief, Pain looks on, he
holds my hand.

From blisters ooze our blood and plasma,
down our hands, onto our feet. Pain says
to me: Do you wish now to escape?  I know
not what to say.  Mute, I hold his hand.

Pain holds my hand, he never lets me go.
I writhe and weep and finally look
into his bloodshot eyes; for he is weeping too,
Pain holds my hand, he weeps for me.

We walk three days through deserts dry,
Pain holds my hand.  From my blood he draws
the poisons of my sins.  Pain holds my hand,
he weeps for me.

It was one of those mornings
where you peer out your bottom floor window,
and look up at the raindrops freshly fallen.

You feel broken,
and yet rushed with an unexplainable emotion.
but you know it’s a good one simply with a bad aftertaste.

You see people everyday, no, you stare at them.
You wish for relationships you once had.
Others you wish you could hold,
and those you could never give up.

Have you ever heard the saying about faking a smile?
It’s an understatement.
It’s not sadness, or anger really, just pain.

It doesn't start out as pain, it just evolves, over time.
The madness results in Emotionally caused Physical pain.
The pain doesn't hurt, it just...sits.

This emotion that we've nicknamed pain, rushes through the body,
Arms numbs, legs shaking, eyes holding back, everything.
It’s all caused from sight, with a drop of longing.

You see this person everyday.
You long for the same people every single day.
And your body just longs for them.

It’s not as lustful as it sounds.
You just possess an attraction to these people.
An attraction that even the most specific and descriptive of words could not describe.

You sit there and you are bound by society’s lock on intermingling.
You are bound by the mock and disgust of others.
You are bound by that person of which you desire.
You are bound simply by yourself.

All this.
All of this Emotion, if you will, was bound in that little drop that clings to the window.
That was but a drop of what I feel every single day.

You can’t imagine
but don't let me sound as if I am exaggerating.
For I am not.

I have felt wonderful things.
Things I am not sure most of you have felt.
Though I wish you could.

I wish I could place my hand on your chest
I wish that all of that energy, that emotion, would flow into you and then back into me.
I could look into your eyes, and I would know, that you know, how I feel.

You could understand everything.
You could sympathise.
but the fact of the matter is, you simply can’t.

I do not believe you have felt what I have felt too, no.
Different version and variations, yes.
But this feeling of impossibility, I know you have not felt.

You are common rebel,
this is not bad, no not at all,
you have more opportunities to release this emotion than I ever will.

And i envy you. All of you. Every Last one.

You look away from the rain drops.
You go back to living.
You go back to hiding.
You go back to solitude.

Yeah, it was just one of those mornings I guess.

Can we pretend for a bit,
                that every day is a bicycle waltz?

That every day is filled,
                filled with wine and whiskey love.

And skin feels like heaven,
               when no one is watching it touched.

That your body & my body,
               will never grow tired of the endlessness of each other's.

Everyday should be a bicycle waltz,
               With you my dear,
                                      *my immeasurable amount of intangible motion.

Intoxication from another’s love
is how I forget your face.
Pushing the boundaries of poisoning
day and night.
Eyes rolling back,
stomach pumping,
dizzy and spinning,
pleasure achieved.
Satisfaction?
Never.

I get drunk off of shallow love.
I crave it.
I want it.
I need it.
To forget you.
I crave the taste that numbs my senses.
I want the nausea to burn the pain.
I need the hazy feeling that throws
me into a sense of nonexistence.
I need it to forget you.

Sobriety grabs me every few days.
Anxiety finds it’s way into my mind.
I’d rather be under the influence.  
Facing reality means facing regret.
Ignore the past the way you ignore me.
Drunken state is better for forgetting.

I get intoxicated on fake love.
It makes me feel wanted
but the lump in my throat,
the loss that churns in my belly,
the swollen eyes staring from the mirror;
they **** the buzz.
Reality.
You’re gone.
Time to start forgetting.

My journey through the smoke
Led me to the other side of the mirror.
Instead of looking in
I was looking out
At all the distorted shapes
Of my mind.

Willingly I walked into the fog
That rose like ghosts from the fire.
The clouds spun me
Until I was lost in the disease.
Puffs of pleasure were past
Engulfing the ever wanting.
I drown in an ocean of haze
Stuck in the daze.
Never wanting to be found.

Gone from the world
Of reality
Brought to the world
Of enlightenment

Deeper and deeper
The fog lured me in.
I wanted to know more.
Mislead to a garden built
Of smoke and mirrors.
The forbidden fruit tastes
As sweet as they say.
Until it rots.

A walkway of pure powder
Drew a line
To the house of mirrors.
Purity never smelled so sweet.
So forgotten in the fog
I emerged in an ash like snow.

Trying to escape the haunting
images in the mirrors.
One illusion lead
to yet another.
Dead end into
the mirror
again,
again,
again .

My journey through the smoke
Led me to the other side of the mirror.
Running from my distorted mind
I found the backdoor
To my escape.

Something happened this morning
when I awoke to you lightly breathing.
It was sublime.
My chin rested on your shoulder
the skin so soft on my cheek.
I couldn’t help but kiss the sweetness.

On nights when I sleep alone
it does not matter how many blankets
wrap my restless body.
I wake cold.
Nothing is as warm as your arms.
Like that of a Texas breeze
on an August night.

I can only think to kiss
your unshaven face.  
The kisses are planted gently,
first your cheek,
then your temple,
and your forehead,
when I come to the tip of your nose
you stir slightly,
but I cannot stop.
I want it more then
the ocean waves need
the shoreline to crash upon.

Looking at your face
I smile at the odd way we met.
With a breath of *** and an intoxicated
grin we spoke.
“I don’t like you”
“Yea? Well I don’t like you first!”
Like children picking
on their first crush.
Tying to fight back the giggles.
Our childish ways still
run strong.

In your absence I sit
and watch the ticking minutes
laugh at my uneasiness.
Hours with others
are mere minutes with you.
The clocks envy
our cherished time
and tick-tock more rapidly
when we are alone.
All our time
would never be
enough.

When we get lost in each other,
the way the lonely roadrunner
looses himself as he runs
up and down
the oak covered hills,
it is love at its best.

This morning
when the soft breathes
you took woke me
and my chin rested upon
your shoulder,
something happened.
As the kisses fell
and your eyes continued to sleep;
I realized that this
is where I belong.
Drifting slowly  
into love with you.