i can feel you
distancing yourself from me
i can feel continental drift
i wonder, do the shoes
you wear to run from me
have holes in them?
or do you go barefoot
careful not to make a sound
in your retreat. "cover your tracks & don't look back" i imagine
your demons whisper daily
as you are growing fond of me
i wonder if your heart puts up a fight when you want to see me
or if it's a massacre
& the demons dance
on dreams you have
of us holding hands
do you wander to your car
only to find yourself back in bed?
do you put your makeup on
just to take if off again?  
is your imagination of me
a graveyard, or a pair of open arms
that are inches away
but just out of reach?
you see, what i've been so afraid
to tell you for so long,
why i feign sometimes
before speaking
careful not to tell you
all my unspoken promises,
it has to do with the night you had your head on my chest and confessed you never thought my heart
could beat like hummingbird wings:
i apologize for my silence
what i've been trying to say
is that my heart hasn't slowed down
since the day we drank coffee together
continents apart

when people ask me if we like eachother
I reply back and say
"no we're just friends"
but I tend to think different because the other night:
when you were drunk,
you told me how you thought my laugh was perfect
and that whenever I do
it makes you smile
and how my smile lights up any room I walk into
when you were drunk,
you told me how you loved my eyes
and how they change from brown to green
you got mad at your friend who tried talking to me
and kept saying to him
"No she's mine"
People say that the truth comes out when you're drunk
I just wish you could say these things sober.
Whenever I bring up another boy,
you pretend like you don't care
but I can tell by the way your tone changes
and how you look at me like I've said the worst possible thing I could.
I don't think you realize
that if you said you wanted to be with me
I would drop anyone for you
but then I remember
"we're just friends"

She's dark, yet
moonlight glows
inside her soft-eyes
& despite her
tragic-aura,
I still want
her blackness,
to taste her magic,
to kiss
the devil inside her.

I don't poem.
I just follow Brennan.
Because I love her.
And her writing.
You will too.

Success is the ladder
That leads to the purple heaven

First rung is the goal
Second the firm determination

Third rung is confidence
Fourth is serious effort

Fifth is the kindling hope
And last one is yourself, a shining star

Spiritual life
Is a shrunk,
Wrinkled
And stumbling
Old man,
Wandering around
In quest for
A permanent
Shelter under
The marvel roof.

A flawless red curve of
Seductive lips
Your bold tongue
On the cusp of mine
I savor your words
Reckless declarations
Breathed down my throat
Slashing my soul
A wound that won’t heal
Exposed to the memory of
*******
Memories that make it my ruin
The way you wrenched my heart
Racked my mind
Molested my soul
The desolation you left me with
When you were done

I look for Pink
To comfort and inspire
My emotional essence
You will see if you
Look into my eyes.