See the river coursing through the hills
Listen to it, hold your breath, stand still
Rapid, pumping like the blood in your veins
Whispering stories of love, joy, tears, pride and pain

Smoked and burnt out, black rock and white snow
A masterpiece as old as time, and the years certainly do show
Crumbling at the touch, old wrinlked face
Closer to the stars, alluring devine grace

Hand in hand they walk this path, ever since the beginning of time
One always humming, the other silently by his side
Old friend, how long has it been? Yes, so long, too long
So I'll stand firm and listen carefully until you finish yours song.

How does it feel to be stable?
When the line doesn't go up and down for hope
When the ocean is calm, waves found hiding
When the moment cease to move in an infinite void

How does it feel to be neutral?
When you picked no definite side, black or white
When you hide from war that shakes you, win or lose
When everything feels monochromatic  melancholy

Emptiness, Unknown, Lost
A heart dead with no beat
A scene replayed by past
A color not pure and diluted

The reason we pick sides,
To fight for something
To be defined by someone
To find the true comfort we need

Why is it you run and hide?
And never show the hurt inside,
Where does all that suffering go?
The wounds that you refuse to show.

Locked like a prisoner in a cell,
Alone to bear your personal Hell,
A Hell from which you can't escape,
But really, it's your chosen fate.

Pain that eats you from the inside out,
Filling up your whole life with doubt,
You just can't do it on your own,
You were never meant to suffer alone.

Because when life's too much to bear,
That's the time for your burden to share,
Open your heart and let someone in,
Only then can the healing begin.

10-23-10.

let me tell you about poetry

let me tell you about how the sunlight hits his eyes and his pupils dilate just enough for me to see my reflection lost in the pool of a mind full of everything but chlorine

let me tell you about the way his words electrify his touch so at one point i'm convinced i'm being struck by lightning, ready and waiting for the storm to come shortly after

let me tell you about how he likes his coffee black and about how he never seemed to learn the word bad, about how he in the most exposing hours of the night strips down to the bare minimum - his soul, about how he loses his thoughts and reverts back to old questions, about how he keeps practicing the art of deception over and over again just to prove to himself he's still got it

let me tell you about how he wears himself on his sleeve and about how i know that in the gaps between when we feel our heart beats in our throats and through our veins, we will never work out, about how he sees shades of blue but i see shades of pale, about how he's an open book but i was taught books are better kept closed, about how he's becoming my muse but the minute i start writing about them that signifies it's surely the end

let me tell you about mourning before it's begun and about the dark nights spent staying up examining self worth in a queen-sized bed with cigarette butts lining the window sills, about the beautiful agony created and the torturous goodbyes

let me tell you about standing on the edge of a cliff with only two options in front of you and having to ask yourself if it's worth the fall, about how you're so scared of being pushed no matter the promises, but how you know that no matter the spears beneath, his face is all you'd see every single moment your body was falling towards the earth, one step closer to oxygen and closer to death

misty eyes and blurry skies
my mind is in knots
i'm lost
the lines blur together
i can't tell which side is which
i just want to get out
i just want to get better