when did it become like this?
too scared to let you go,
hanging on every kiss,
like it may be my last good bye.

i scan your beautiful face,
and taste your sacred lips,
and wonder why,
why have i done this to you?

my eyes burn,
and my throat is dry,
and the smell of ***** lingers,
stinging and cutting my strings.

in the dead of night i weep,
it the light of day i cry,
no comfort shall be brought,
i will have wasted no time.

for i never deserved that chance,
when in the early throws of october,
looked into your eyes,
and saw love staring back.

staring back.

and i still have absolutely no clue-
of what you saw.

It's like some old rap song.
left me wondering when you might be back,
that person that used to be,
he's gone and all that's left-
is some sewed together parts of a sac.
it used to be you wanted help,
you wanted to tell me of your love,
where you cared of your friends,
family, and me.
you know it was not me who made you this way.
i didn't chose your choices,
i didn't speak your words,
i didn't walk the path of the self righteous.

But i do remember walking beside you,
reading the wonderful words you used to write,
enjoying all your kisses and hugs,
feeling so happy every time i saw you smile,
and how much i looked up to you.
That two days apart would be too much,
and a thousand years together was never enough...

I remember who you were,
i know who you are,
and all i'm left with is one question.
Where'd you go....

Chills run up my spine as the spring air cools. I notice the sky behind me. Thunderclouds clash and lightning strikes at a distance.
      The storm is coming.
There are blurred faces everywhere, in a rush to get to safety. As the storm's fury would take their lives if they were to be trapped. But I do not fear the tempest. I hear it calling to me, as if to lure me into its eminent danger.
      The storm moves closer.
As if to intimidate me, the clouds taunt me with their peril, and the salty rain fills my eyes. The thunder is deafening. The downpour soaks my shoes, running off my coat in the middle of the gale.
       The storm is all around me.
Black thunderheads above me, the lightning strikes. The illumination casts shadows in the sky, a perfect silhouette.
       The storm is beautiful.

The storm moves on, the sun pierces the clouds, and a silver lining of discomfort and insecurity enter the void in my soul.
      The storm is my comfort.

As I sit a puff on a cigarette,
I remember once a clarifying dream-
Of finding my way when lost.

A journey of wonder and choices,
But a day like today-
when I ponder,
I cant help but seeing it different.

Of no lights when I reach the end,
No hand to hold-
When I reach a bend in the road.
Of a haunting darkness,
To which no God can illuminate.

The curve of an eyelash,
the accelerated beating of a heart,
the aching in my soul-
that makes me wonder if any of it is real.

Or gasping for air-
Under the crushing blows of the waves,
Feeling the weight of the world on my shoulders.

For once I dreamt and felt,
but now I only wreak of panic,
and blind messes.