I want to see you from inside out
And know where your eyes gaze about
I want to know what you always see
What could you maybe someday be?

Tell me after you have slept
-When passion awakens from its depths-
The whisper of senses that crash upon your shore,
The ones I hope you do not ignore

I wish to see you gaze at the skies
Maybe you'll frown, or even ask, "Why?"
Those waters, a place I wish to swim
Will ask you with an invitational whim
Maybe- just maybe- you will not deny

Even I, with scales on my eyes and large, heavy headphones pressed tightly against my ears, can see that this three week conversation has died out, although I have made every attempt to keep it burning.
Even I, with my nose bleeding, and my heart bleeding, and my soul dripping some strange, red liquid, know that this has run its course, which, coincidentally, was directly into an iceberg which I never saw. An iceburg that only exists in your eyes, yet this ship sailed, serene, into it, with no word of warning from your lips.
Even I, with guts spilled out, in the street, in front of your house, spelling your name, must aknowledge the fleeting nature of the situation. I guess.
Even I, with next to no knowledge of myself, know that I am lying.
But they are lies that I must eat with the eagerness of starving foxes - for that is what I am now. I am made of lies and paw-prints in the vacant lot, near the abandoned sugar factory, that place I still believe is haunted, to this day. Maybe it houses my ghosts.
But after my dinner of hollow lies, I am left famished still, even though I choked down one too many, coughing, and gasping for air, as if I were drowning in my own falsities. After my unsatisfying meal, I only want one dessert: A cigarette and an answer. But only one is possible, and I have already made my choice. The pull of Nicotine is much stronger than that of closure. So I don't really need it.
I am a blind man, who has wandered onto the train tracks, far outside of town, where the iron horses can really run. In the city (or something that may only resembe a city,) they prance. On display. "Look at my tall, graffitti-stained walls. See my beautiful face of cow-catcher grin and headlamp, cyclops eye."
I made my picnic on the tracks, thinking they were a bench. I guess that was a bad idea. And my reanimated corpse agrees, as it trusts that another train is still far away and stumbles about, picking up lost pieces.
I should build a house here. I really don't mind rebuilding, and the trainwrecks ain't so bad...
All in retrospect, friend.

i am a somewhat simple soul.
i find happiness in most everything,
a glimmer of hope,
a glint of a smile.

i aknowledge the great sadness anger and despair, that is the happy coins opposite bling.
have tossed and lost,
many times.

but now with joy,
i declare these things,
below, today,
are my happy fare:

a lover's kiss brushed across my sleeping brow, a grimy face,
two muddy little hands
and a satisfied grin.
the smell of muffins
baking in a tin.
the rhythmic click, clacking of knitting,
from the nanexxe exuding.
the smile of a gerberer,
the purr of cat,
the flight of ladybird,
the look of my bloke,
in a pork pie hat.

giggling, tickling, wriggling, boys watching cartoons. little girls, in pink tutus
with a lack of poise.
fine art,
a good turn of phrase.
me singing off key,
out of tune,
bass booming,
to my favourite song.
skip-trip dancing, along.

chocolate, coffee,
tea with dear friends.

o me, o my,
my list never ends,
so many things,
on my list,
so many things,
i have missed
but i must begone
to live my list
and wander on.

i find that in my pursuit of happiness i am often tackled by it.....
....that is the joy in this game of life i love

Someone once said
Mother Earth is as much
A part of us
As we are of Her
If we aknowledge that
Each ***** that sustains
Our intelligently designed existance
Each muscle that
Promotes our dynamic lives
Each cell that celebrates
Its small yet profound task
Within us,
Comes forth from the ground
We walk upon
We will see that the person
On the other side of the Earth
Is as much a part of us
As we are of Mother Earth

When you told me you were leaving
I had practiced the path of which my
fingers memorized the curvature of your spine
and your ribcage.
That way your memory would forever be in my fingerprints

The week before you left. I watched you
carefully,
And then all at once as you threw
yourself against the wind.
The way you tried to absorb into the clouds above you.
You just wanted to go home.

As much as I wished, you would never call my arms home
Instead they were a nose that was ever tightening against your pale skin
Too tight but too loose.
I just wanted to love you.

5 days before you left.
You told me we were better off without each other.
That I was merely a past memory.
The nights we spent limbs oustretched and entangled meant nothing.

But you wrote me my first love letter.

Slipped under my dorm room door
Softly like a midmorning whisper or a kiss goodnight
Just fast enough to be seen by a fleeting eye or felt by a barefoot
You told me you had no idea we would turn out like this.

3 days before you left.
I laid awake in both disbelif and awe that someone who was once so close
Could stop and then suddenly restart my heart again and again
until finally it lulled itself back into a chaotic slumber.

The day you left
I refused to watch you leave from the rearview mirror
Everyone knows you only look through that mirror if you want to watch something dissapear.

My blind spot was way to thick
And my tears were traces of past memories that were yet to be written
I was too selfish to even aknowledge the simplicity of a goodbye

But you wrote my my first love letter.

My body was made to love yours, I know that's such a cheesy cliche but baby. When your bodys pressed against mine its like a holy matrimony. Id testify to be able to prove how my heart races like it will never get another chance to beat, as if I am something to pass the time with.. if I add the extra cheesy cliched thing to say it'd simply be I want to spend forever proving my love for you not just your body which is my holy grail I will bow down to and worship every night if you'd like. But also I cant get you out of my head like that really annoying song you cant help but sing, yeah that one but this melody is not annoying at all. My heart beats the rythm and my body the lyrics and every word that fumbles out of my jaw clenched mouth is an ode to how perfect I think you are. And that's not to say you don't have flaws and that I don't aknowledge how I see you struggle with those beasts that have you in their grip, but I promise to be that knight in shining armor and chase them away for as long as I can. I'm sorry but loving you in cliche is the only way I know how to love, but I'm learning.

Wise words from a "wizzard."
Leaking out onto paper.

Caught up in a blizzard.
Storms are coming later.

Reading by a priest.
To me they mean the least.

Aknowledge the power.
Of words read for hours.

Agree or suffer.
Agree or die.

Agree with another.
Agree or cry.

Sensible seclusion.
Causes delusion.

Words without meaning.
Are words that need defeating.

Words that hurt.
Words that break.

Words that fight.
Words that are fake.

Hurt against you.
Hurt against many.

Hurt against the world.
Hurt against plenty.

Subside and control.
Controlling of nations.

Control of the world.
Control causing irritation.

Irrational fears subsided.
World being divided.

Walls being built.
Feelings of guilt.

Lonely days of nothing more.
Than what tomorrow brings in store.

Words that bring up such a bore.
Are words that pull at your hair.

These are the words that bring us down.
These are the words that don't care.