I have never snorted
or smoked
or stung skin
with the explicit
substances of this earth
But I have heard that when
a human being goes from
first ****** experience to
aching addiction
Their brains have been
flooded
with seratonin
to such a devestating
degree
that they can no longer
enjoy organic bliss

                                                        sc­ent
                                                        taste­
                                                        touch
  ­                                                      melody

Wha­t I want to know
Is if this is what happened to me
because of **you

The winds out of the west land blow,
My friends have breathed them there;
Warm with the blood of lads I know
Comes east the sighing air.

It fanned their temples, filled their lungs,
Scattered their forelocks free;
My friends made words of it with tongues
That talk no more to me.

Their voices, dying as they fly,
Thick on the wind are sown;
The names of men blow soundless by,
My fellows' and my own.

Oh lads, at home I heard you plain,
But here your speech is still,
And down the sighing wind in vain
You hollo from the hill.

The wind and I, we both were there,
But neither long abode;
Now through the friendless world we fare
And sigh upon the road.

The church bells toll a melancholy round,
Calling the people to some other prayers,
Some other gloominess, more dreadful cares,
More harkening to the sermon's horrid sound.
Surely the mind of man is closely bound
In some blind spell: seeing that each one tears
Himself from fireside joys and Lydian airs,
And converse high of those with glory crowned.
Still, still they toll, and I should feel a damp,
A chill as from a tomb, did I not know
That they are dying like an outburnt lamp,—
That 'tis their sighing, wailing, ere they go
Into oblivion—that fresh flowers will grow,
And many glories of immortal stamp.

I am loud,
Demanding attention.
I know when I am being charming
Because I try.
I put on my impressing face
And do my impressing hair
And speak my impressing words.
I tell you my embarrassing drinking stories
And everything else about me
That you probably shouldn’t know.

I am not good at being quiet
Because that’s not who I am.
I am not the sweet girl
Who will leave you with a smile
And a touch
And a glance
Or a single word.
There is nothing of this fashion of romance
About me.

I am the girl who will point out your flaws,
And take you outside to see the stars,
And remind you how human you are,
And what a wonderful thing that is.

I am the girl who will talk about science,
And music and theology and history,
And point out constellations, laughing,
When you don’t know the big dipper’s name.

I am the girl who will make witty references,
To classic literature and science fiction,
And will tell you stories of how I once,
Made a gingerbread replica of a lighthouse.

I am the girl who will stand on a table,
And sing at the top of my lungs on the highway,
And act like a chicken or quail or velociraptor,
Or nuzzle your face like a lion to make a point.

I am the girl who takes too many shots
And then coaxes you to bed on a Russian liver,
And knows all the right places to bite, and tease,
And follows with exceptionally coherent pillow-talk.

I am not a thin silk scarf on the wind.
I am not a thing hard to capture.
You would not spend a perilous journey
Through a wild, perfumed jungle,
Searching for my slender garments
Hung beside a pool
As I wail to the breeze.

Rather, I am the bird who flies overhead
Making too much noise
Distracting from the trail ahead.
A bird whose plumage proves
What an interesting life it must be…
What a colorful life for me…
Perpetually strange
The lone comic relief.

I am many things.
But I am not quiet.
Of this I am sure.

I am blind.
I only see as my thoughts allow.
With one look of your puppy dog eyes.
You open my mind.
Reality is now my sweet escape.
And dreams are meant to be feared.
I see the way my fingertips run across your spine.
I see the way you make me feel.
I see your laughter and peace of mind.
Wisdom and understanding I pry from you.
Listening to each word dance out of your mouth.
Feeds my craving to explore.
The more I learn, The more I seek.
I yearn to adventure into your mind
Into your heart.
I wish to see what you hold back.
Behind the curtains of your sight.
My eyes are open.

I think if you asked me
how I felt about you tonight
I find that I'd say that I miss you
and that if you weren't so far away
and instead at my side
I'd refrain from kissing you, despite
the moments of wanting, what's a few
seconds more of longing to build
on mutual electricity?
I find that I'd stare at you awhile.
Because I never want to forget the
soft shade of brown in your eyes.

The night always falls a sweet embrace to the citys bitter reallty.
And I it's ever pressent *** a nothing in a sea of so called movers and shakers.
I saw them all rise and in that growth I also saw that which made them special turn to the worst of the mundane .

A  sort of flawed perfection.
Now just a run of the mill joke.
Anyone can be good show me depth and most will just ask how much does that truely cost?

Take my traggic ending make it something in a empty lie to suit your dreams .
I still preffer my nightmares reprise.

Am I not the artist but have I killed the clown to give all till all is what none did ever require?
Please find comfort in a happiness I myself could never grasp.
And ignore bitter tears drown in many rivers yet to embrace the flood
and a pressent future.
I preffer a bloodstained past broken hearts existance.

What is left still ***** with even my own thoughts.

You should have stopped while your ahead my boy **** how I hate advice.
Maybe im a reject of a long gone feeling we no longer share.
Maybe I simply stopped giving a **** altogather.

Heres the punchline Ive lost it friends lets drink to a sunset and a passing tide.

Whats left is a chaos inspired novel and a unending addiction i can no longer control.
Maybe a it's hell but what a night we shared time's a ***** who's dance cards often full.
Laughter covers the uneasy feelings I view in the readers mind.

Watch with fire for certain its burn we know when we have played.

But yet another night closes and im just another lost whisper of a forgotten conversation.
dont darken my grave if you've never stood at my door.

We all saw the truth just some choose to ignore its end.
And others never gave a dam to begin with.

One day we'll all understand the street lights fade and the silence
does erase us all.
Sunrise I care less to greet your return as i truley linger to embrace your fade.