Sometimes my vision starts to vibrate
Back and forth,
Like the firmament of reality
Is ripping apart into dreams
And I wonder if one day it'll go
All the way
And I'll just zoom off into some strange bruise of blue
And purple-black
Heart attack

Reading HR on the wall
Thinking how far we have to fall
Feeling the pleasant rush of air
Run across my free cheeks

And I keep blinking,
Thinking that if I just want a little more
Push a little more
Maybe the word will crack open the rains of fortune
And whisk me away like an egg

Grinding my fingers against the tree,
Trying to eat at the bark
Like a little ******
But not so wrong, honestly.

I find more often than not
When I oft retreat into enclosed thought,
Stepping stones across the pond
Of reality,
I dream of something that could never be.

Like a stone,
Crashing into a celestial dome
Only a fraction of an inch
And destroying wholly
All things that called it home.

Clawing deep at wormword
Blood on fingers, blood and hand
To fall ever softly toward the beautiful
******
To some perfect miracle.

For future reference, so I remember
we were standing in the middle of the room, your hands at the small of my back, flat palms pulling my body into you
you kissed me and there was nothing else but you and I
and I thought.. marry me.

But I step forward and you step back, you step forward, I step back.. we've got this dance down
neither of us willing to risk standing still when the other comes forward.

Easing in
Slow and deliberate
I know where I'm going
Familiar place but foreign
I don't speak the language
But I get by
Exploring the terrain with my eyes and hands and mouth
I relax into the slow and steady pace 
I can see the perfection through the haze and smoke
Determined, I continue to my destination
I'm coming

Do you want me there, every time you turn over in bed, every room you walk out of and into, in your spot on the sofa, with your remote in my hand?
Do you need a minute?
I'm not sure why people do that, I'm not sure why I want that, if I want that.
Am I being selfish, not wanting to share my space?
But also wanting to share my space.
You invade it, slide into it, spill over my rough edges and then I notice you there, how long have you been there?
I'll share my morning hair, coffee breath and bad singing because I've decided missing you is worse.

we all  narrate
our own destinies
smoothing the edges of
dubious memory
so we become hero
or victim, as we see fit

we paint our words with
colour and passion
and make some areas
grey or black
shading the story,
so that our heart remains clean

it is only in the small print
foot notes, that we write
codiciles and retractions
that we give a nod to time

the nebulous truth
obfuscated  by time
and the blurred re-telling
becomes the urban legends
of our minds....

our very own fairy  tales
and once upon a times
seen through the
kaliedescope of fathertime

The sea is still today
It's cerulean blue and gold
I think of the thoughts it carries
Within its hidden folds.
Its touch is soft and gentle
It soothes the ache of years
But I wonder how many waves
Are made from fallen tears.

You won't forget me,
Like the back of your hand.
You never truly will.
I assure you with everything I am.

Because I am the song you've never heard;
The book you've never read;
The painting you've never looked at;
The one you've never thought of in your head.

I am the sea you've never swam in,
Or the keys you've never played.
I am the star you've never wished upon,
Or the prayer you've never made.

I am the dawn you've never seen,
The pillow you've never had at night;
I am the door you've never opened;
The glasses you've never used for sight.

As I came to know and realize
You like the back of my hand;
Knowing you exist, in my eyes,
I assure you with everything I am:

I never truly will,
That I will never forget you too.
But you've never known me in the first place,
So it was never the same for you.

the easiest and hardest thing
about falling in love
is being a writer