Since I don't know if we'll ever meet again-
I guess
that we'll try to stay together
forever.

"I'll tell you someday."
Laughing and sticking your tongue out,
teasing me,
you were the most beautiful then.
But-
When is that someday?
A link in the far distant future;
without any promise
or solidity.

Your back is growing fainter,
more distant,
vaguer,
quieter,
it's almost transparent now.

The fact that no matter how long my fingers were;
How much I grew;
How much I learned;
How much I matured-
The fact
that I could still not reach or touch you
or your standard;
I could do nothing
but slump to the floor,
Admit painful defeat-
And cry.  

The Villain-
was me.
The one who ran away-
was me.
It was no lie,
For I am
the true deceiver.

And
I say to the plaster
peeling wall-
"I'm Sorry."
Uselessly,
Meaninglessly,
inutility,
I just sit there
in a wooden, peeling
chair;
Wondering.

The Characters that I wrote then-
They don't dance for me anymore.
"Is that so?"
The poems that I scribbled-
on a napkin at a fast food restaurant,
Where are they now?
"Who knows?"
My memories and limits-
Are they gone?
"Why don't you figure out yourself?
Isn't the person,
who knows you best-
yourself?"  
--
--
--
I'm sorry-
My light was gone.
I'm Sorry-
My head wasn't thinking straight.
I'm Sorry-
I let go.
What kind of excuses are these?

For being a coward,
For being a shallow person
who didn't see the world-
Sorry doesn't even take up half of it.

The beginning of the end,
tell me,
when does that time come?

The promise that our naïve selves made together
"Forever, Eternally,"
You believed in those words.
For crushing your morals,
For mocking them,
For taking away your innocence-
"Forgive me."

Because I am in the habit of...staying conscious...past the hours of the blackness of the sky....

I always see the very first symbols of the resurrection of the sun...

I ask myself, 'why do I lack the discipline," with heavy self-abuse and words of smoke and venom, and thrice in the form of guilt, "to not sleep as the sun goes down, and rise with the light?"

Here is what I want...it is a symbol of the truth.

The Truth is the heart's desire within my inner coils.

Twist them undone and twist them around...see that all I want is to ebb and flow and dance with all.
All that Is and Is Not.

Like an Arch-Angel...

Yet, here I am...
A nocturnal scribe.
A saying of sweet words, and a doer of not.

I'll close my eyes and dream of days soon to come, dripping with gold and embodied with the rising of the sun.

Simple. Simply put.

I am the standing figure, casting a long long long shadow upon dark green.
A hill before me.
Sun, half mass of which is behind a mass of land.

Evoking spooks and spirits.
Burning away my smile and smoke...

Melodic Ghosts.

I. Forth-path walkers, entombed upon a sealed fortress within my dreams.

When I blink, it all fades back to a green flash.

Then I laugh...pretty heartily, I should add...

In a Sense of the Word of the Way...
I am in a coma.
Do you understand such verbal waves of reality, bent?
Do know when happiness...froze?
She thaws it, It thaws it. That one word...or a song.

However, most of the time...
Frozen.
SOLID!
Yes, in fact..solid, in fact.

Patriarchal remains, An Elder without a right to live.

I'd offer you my sword, if you were so brazen to impale yourself upon it.

Show me to the Sun.
I'll behead you and set you free.

AEIOOIUPPU.

...run...

The girl was scared of puddles
And she was scared of rain
Every time the thunder clapped
She raced back inside again

She was given beautiful umbrellas
And coats of waterproof silk
But still she sat inside
And read on the window sill

As she grew the rain poured harder
And the girl cowered away
She hid behind her mother’s back;
She never ran to play

She was afraid of what the droplets were
So she sat and watched them gather
She still refused to step outside
And so she grew ever sadder

People came along
And people quickly left
They found the girls odd cowardice;
The way she counted every breath

There came a day when it was too late
And the girl was forced outside
She was lost without her silken coats
And with no place that she could hide

The girl was chilled clean through to bone
And her shy life came to an end
In her silken coats she reached the gates
And the golden stairs she did ascend.

In God’s own home she lay down her fears
And she swore that she’d be brave.
For there there are no window sills
And no pouring rain or hate.

Saint Peter smiled and praised her,
The girl who’d been inside,
And Saint Peter whispered truthfully
As he watched the young girl cry:

“Now, girl who’s scared of puddles,
And girl who’s scared of rain,
Did you ever think that when the thunder claps
It doesn’t have to mean your pain?”

“There’s others out there, like you
Who have suffered just as much
Yet they stay strong and they pull through
And they do not lose touch.

“I’ve been here always to protect you,
And that will never change.
So when you’re scared next just think of that,
And stand to face the rain.”

You must learn to love the puddles
And embrace the freezing drops
Dance under the thunderclouds
Until the lightning stops