I want to finger paint you against the sunset, encapsulating your beauty for a moment in time, enraptured by the glow of fading light

I want to catch your gaze as you laugh, your eyes alight with glee ascribed to the humor of something so seemingly mundane

I want to kiss you beneath the stars, each one singing a tale of long since forgotten lovers who have carved their paths below them

I want to hold you for endless minutes, the touch of your skin scorching into my memory the intimacy and intricacy of such fleeting embraces

You are divine essence in motion. You are ethereal.

I lay dormant
Subdued but in whole
I manage my being in stasis
At peace, I am cradled by the light
The long and gentle fingers nestled into the ether
A lengthy slumber is ahead of me
What comfort may it bring?

Today was warm, I felt a little bit livelier.
Challenges never cease to erupt from the cracks in the sidewalk like brazen dandelions, the sun a relief after unyielding darkness.
I see a lot of roadblocks, they make me anxious.
The taste of defeat is not foreign, but the saccharine glow of success washes the horizon; set ablaze with ambition.
I want to be better, almost perhaps somebody else.
Today was warm, I felt a little bit happier.

The I.V. undulates momentarily with life before settling back into motionlessness, liquid still passing through smoothly, coolness flooding the vein.

Is that chill ever deep enough? The one I left with the last time my leg grazed the metal rests of a hospital bed.

Pain is limitless when the mind never rests, crisp white linen tucked thoughtfully around the outline of your sullen frame. Is it you? Or is it them? Who do you blame for the ache?

I remember years ago in a state like this, that I had wondered almost the same. However, back then I would've said, "surely it is you if I feel the sorrow." Now I think I may be to blame. I cradle my emotions like a colicky babe.

Once again a fool to a game that ceases to end, running in circles only to bite my own tail. The monitor hums.

Eyes grow heavy from the weight of obsession, mind on overload, sifting through piles of useless information and intense thought.

Wake up tomorrow to run another race, maybe we'll meet again one day. I'll see you at the finish line.

Your fingertips cascade softly like silk against my skin, and your breath is warm; invading the nape of my neck with muffled desire.
I cannot forget the way you smell, and the texture of your deep golden hair.
Brassy locks resting against my palm.
Those deep blue pools I submerge myself in never fail to swallow me whole.
I can only touch you in dreams, hold you in dreams.

The glance when you turn your head.
Electricity forming in the sockets of my eyes.
You feel like a blanket freshly pulled from the dryer.
The static undying.
I play coy.
Nervousness never known by me.
I feel the escape in your lips.
I feel inadequate.
You never fail to please.
Soft in nature.
Baby, be kind to me.

The help has arrived, but they don't wear an apron or a coat.
No hats, no starch white collars.
The help came from inside of me, deep down in a place that I could not see.
The help came from a person I didn't know I was until I looked back and tapped on the glass, watching the fishes dart back and forth.
The help loves me, the help wants to see me succeed.
I was always the help. I was always the key.
If you look deep inside, and crawl around on your hands and knees... The help is inside of you, too.
Set yourself free.

My heart lurches.
I feel the jitters coming on.
Can you taste the acerbic air?

It's so cold.
Your eyes are frozen.
Locked beneath the hull of your anger.

Hit me.
Don't flinch.
The words cut almost as deep as my unkept fingernails.

Apathy rings loudly.
Empathy has yet to resurface.
I choke.

It's over.
Jitters have passed.
The footsteps fade.

I woke up this morning to you towering over the foot of my bedframe.

Anxiety

When I stared blankly at my cereal bowl, disinterested and afraid to eat.

Anxiety

I take a shower at a snails pace, petrified of returning to the mirror to be bathed once again in your foul cocoon.

Anxiety

When I leave the house I look down at my feet, to escape the gazes of strangers with motives unknown to me.

Anxiety

As I cry alone in the bathroom stall, not knowing who to turn to for a problem that never leaves.

Anxiety

I just want you to know that you're killing me.

Anxiety

I watch these fleeting scenes flit behind my eyes.
Moments where I've captured you.
The silence is unbearable.
I can't undo hurt.
Taking blame is losing my pride.
I'd give it all.
I've thrown it all away.
You lie there, in a troubled slumber.
I brace for the next slide.
Trauma on replay.
Please don't leave.