Betwixt an atmosphere of a holy nature





By a classic serenade of Christian lullabies





Unceremoniously my body sways to the beat







For every moment that elapses



More and more I become electrified



As in the wake of your presence





A song of budding amour is evoked



Try I may to suppress this sensation,



Though upon a lie I'd asphyxiate





Please do not allow me to suffer



To languish within a plethora of



A sheer and utter coating of blindness





Darling forgive me if I impose



I avidly seek for signs of proof



To know if this is real



What would happen?

© 2011 (All rights reserved)

Wicked nether-land. Nether world, white, askance. Capitulating mangroves, verdant trees spliced with hyperbole, onomatopoeia, and manilla envelopes; her world is stuffed with secrets, she listens to gorillas cracking mussels a kilometer away, near a rill. Never she thought. Nothing that could provide....providence. Mangled heliographs  sprayed all over the everywhereworld.

"Don't be S.A.F.E.," she whispered. A bouquet of gorse, cistus, and pimpernels squished in her small fingers. She climbed her way through the pedimented stairway, then collapsing on the porch. Legs spent, and spread out upon the desiccate grayed four by four planks of the portico.

And as time elapses, the shuttering shake of the hemlock, which writhes through her skinny nimble dactyls, upwards straining the heart as its toxic bends appendages- crisp cerise lumens bend on the Titanium White walls, where only shadows bend time. The hour, still nine. Every adornment, furnished with red and its hues. Not purple, periwinkle, or any masked enhancement.

These are the symbols that reticulate splines, that curve temperatures, perverse hemispheres and debunk worlds. Upped antes, verbs that terns flirt worth, birth words. Ooh. Aah. Camera. The forest wraps her in its verdant pasture, where at last the moribund tamarisks disperse.

While at the plateau she is quiet and longing. Arms astride, dangling. Vaunt with highs and bliss- a kiss of withstanding pleasure serves her the cure for a lifetime of whining. This, yesterday where her body rattled through crooked vines. Square ships toasting her vocal melancholy in the sweet-waters of Time. So that all of her ripened limbs could grow, no more sheepishly than the magic she knew as a child. Stress free. First among the Earth-words, verbed-up and made jealous by pronouns that encompassed her joy-brimming hide. Closing down her voice and hugging her from behind.

​Explosion of the white tree,
A synapse in the damp air.
The fluid around the corsair,
Ambassador of the secret;
The perfume of a comet
Descends upon the wetland.

A goosebump stretches my hair;
Ripples forming across the sea
As nostril and flowers meet
Miles and miles without end.

The green flame always return
In a frenetic haze, a burst of fire,
As the solar wave caresses the earth
At welcomed glances, so soft a fur.

A last effort renewed forevermore;
Delirious poison continually brewed;
An elixir against the veil of dusk;
Cause and effect from dust to dust.

As the mind steps out back further,
It finds itself returned at the core,

Til all of Spring elapses.

Battered and bruised
this heart takes a pounding.
As the mind goes into the spin cycle.
Taking no notice of time
that elapses regardless.

Worn and exhausted,
these lungs yearns and fights for...
Air.
Sweet air.
As if tomorrow would offer no more.

Unnatural and numbing...
Sleep.
These meds promise only the illusion
that all is good and well.
Encapsulated in high sheen gloss.
Shaped such to go down easy.
A means for a convenient albeit
temporary escape.

The wind howls to the craters of the moon, wondering if its lack of breath is another respiratory disease waiting to happen
As bodies crash into the ocean and casualties increase by every bottled up sensibility
The cracks of cardboard doors fill up the voids of emptiness,
Emptiness of washed up filth and five days worth of street toxic meant for the guts too vacant to feel
Their doors quiver to every knock and exhale, families too hungry, awaiting to devour assurance of safety
Just this once, they are asking for a little more
Than numbered days of handfuls of rice and rock salt, enough to feed the mouths of eight
Teeth clicking to every bite, bones clashing together to prolong the food not more than a mouthful
However this time the clicking doesn’t stop
It intensifies as street light poles plummet into windows and shards are washed away, seeping through soaked doors
They are told to leave these places without titles but this unnamed land is their entitlement and home
Their mother whose tongue is a symphony of lullabies remains silent, hoping for the storm to pass
Lips swollen from biting, she looks at her children with fear in her eyes, tears reflecting the shattered bulb that hangs by the kitchen ceiling
She links her arms to her children’s, grips their skin tightly hoping to warm their shivering exterior while whispering the words “they’ll come for us”

Time elapses and the water rises, their properties enveloped by the disease
Their house disappears along with it, in a downward current of pitch black and rotten forestry
What is left is a family of seven, arms linked and accompanied by the howling wind,
Slowly diminishing with its lack of breath, becoming a nationwide debris

n.j.

This is exhibit A. witness testify to a false maker
of false hopes a dreamers dream disappearing on the lids of
a waking being. So is the theme spoken in rainbow
brilliance the soul is trapped in a toys body break me discard me
no use for this
this is exhibit B. a lifeless rendition of a restless warrior begging
to be freed from his crime in watching his own hands  children
and a pregnant woman willing to sell her soul for redemption.
Break him, discard him but never let him forget
Time elapses travel to the future, Raggedy Andy and the soul
a machine cold and calculating everyone wants one for Christmas
unwrap the gift and sell it tomorrow
wont get much out of it. Devoid of extraneous packaging
it's lost it's worth and the scars are blessed tracing them with my tongue
a willing conspirator in your lie that you live day to day. Praying to whatever
that tomorrow you won't wake up and the pain will stop. Should have never
beqeuthed my soul then because now I'll never let you go
The welcomed touch of another to soothe the decay build a house of
legos galore a horror left untold but whispered in empty space someday
it will reach the ears all will be out of place the blessing of scars and the blessing
of tides. Wash the dreams into reality
yet with your eyes squeezed shut you cannot see the smiles
I flash you from across the room. Another cold winter with plastic walls,
the floor rough beneath my paper thin feet. I am getting older and your passion
still falls to ripping me open and seeing what color I am today. Your
dream is my hell. A reality we all want but some never have a blessing
of the tides for you but not the patchwork of needle veins left on my
heart
A ragdoll sows well after unthreading unraveled secrets that are being
spoken a hidden meaning in things known so well and held
so dear the addict is addicted the silver polish of another exit
and a feared exit (exist)
picking away at the surface he is relieved to see his own
reflection on fates tinderbox. Matches with his name on them and other
wealth's of knowledge he cannot comprehend. I take in his
apathy and replace him whole.
Existence is superficial floating ecstacy through a ravers midnight
meltdown the drugs that soothed soon are smoothed out of the system
a gentle touch the softest if skin paper thin paper thin
licking the edges and listening fast, a deep puff, euphorium. Wanting to
play tonight the caterpillar sees, puffing his own blue smoke fast.
bloodshot eyes hide the daylight from your stolen afternoon. The headboard begs
for some grease, let's at today, my love, let's break me again
The twins of wonderland and the cat disappearing a story
forever after faintly breathing from the lips of the souls
sought wondering
sharing a shotgun with a confidant the after taste sour and strained. Not
enough we all see into your twisted head. Plucking on my heart strings
too rough. Wanting to see me bleed. Not this time the queen of hearts will
soon beat you with a flamingo and send you flapping
through the hourglass a king of king and clams
A nursery rhyme for all children to sleep a child's toy finally
dies leaving behind soiled

1,187 words

.
We were whole, once
Ordered, balanced: one
Disorder grows; time emerges
Time elapses; disorder grows
Entropy
Pulls us apart, away
Farther from the state
The unlikely state
Where we were whole
…

Traipsing through alleys,
Awash in an alcoholic glow,
We play Frogger,
Headed to our usual spot.

PBR's and Mai Tai's disguised as Powerade,
The night elapses
In a haze
Of elaborate bottle passes.

Rain died on the cobble stones.
A warm soul escaping as scented steam,
rising to the fading heavens
of a long Paris eve.

Muted velvet shadows deepen and
soften the edges of everything.
Lovers kisses, whispers and laughter
mingle.

Half drunk
and one more bottle of wine.

Eyes dance and share their dreams.
Across a private table hands meet.
Making love like secret poems of the deaf.

Subtle exchanges of body movement
compliment the symphony
of this tiny world magic.

Breaking bread from a wicker basket.
Full on night descends,
closing its curtain on the day.

Internal prayers to heaven
chase each other,
They wish this night would never end.

Dark red stains on pure linen.
Count the glasses.
Time elapses,
but it's never getting late.

Roosty

If I could pen a poem from
all my regrets, I would fill up
ten dozen notebooks.
And

if I could take back all the
things I wished I hadn’t said,
I could start my own
branch of the U.S. public
library.

And if I could wrap it all
up with one big gift-bow
and present it to you,
I would speak of the fragmented
memories of all the times I
spent with
you.

Because…

Five years ago, in January,
Hours turned into
Minutes and
Minutes slowed into
Seconds. And then suddenly,
all the time elapsed between us without
warning. And your ticking
time-piece turned out to be
a homemade explosive you
marked as ‘flammable’.

And if I could have just one
more minute to
tell you that I love you,
Just one more moment,
to say that I’m sorry.
Just…just one last second
to say goodbye
and to make sure you knew for
sure what I always knew that you knew;
Before the hours turn into minutes
and trickle down into seconds
Before all the time elapses in-
between us…

I would use those moments to tell
you that I love you more than Mercury
loves the sun, and that I long to see you
once again just as Pluto longs to
make one full rotation.
And I would tell you I will always
“see you later, alligator” and that in my
dreams, you will always be my
"crocodile-lover."

And how I’ll always go back to Summers of
how your fuzzy mustache tickled my
innocence during our special eskimo
kisses.

And that I’ll forever remember how you
pushed me on the swings singing
‘Take Me Out to the Ballgame,"

And how you whispered to me sweet nothings
of how I always was your favorite.

And I’ll always remember that you loved
candied orange slices, gummy bears, sugar smacks
and your “top secret” chocolate stash
almost as much as you loved
your precious cigarettes,
almost as much as you
loved me.

And I’d tell you that I’m still
scared of lawnmowers,
Grandpa,
And that I’m scared that there’s
no man who will
love me like you did,
And that I’m scared that growing
up will make me forget.

Because it’s six years
and six million
tears later.
And I wish I could tell you
how many things have changed.
But the most important things
will always remain the same.
Because,
Everyday the hours turn into
Sixty Minutes and the
Sixty Minutes turn into
Sixty Seconds
and the time still
elapses between all of us as you
sing me softly to sleep
Even from below
Six feet.

Lost in a moment
Clarity, profoundly strikes,
Resonating in my soul
I hear the Crow caw
Her fluttering black feathers
An anchor to a spiritual realm.
Beckoned by moonbeams
Glowing full in the darkness
Piercing the night sky, into
A lunatic's daydreams
Where beady eyes observe me
So particular, curiously investigating
With a nod of approval, ambitions rise
Time elapses through the stars
Graceful wings dance of destiny
Visions of fate, binding us together.

Our backs are barren
**** and cold,
and we'll hug warmly
in a sporadic breath.

Reflected boldly
on a royal sword;
a caress will freeze
drowned in coldness and blush.

Broken bits of a tempo
slowly find their way;
and we'll replay back the symphony
when we're in dismay.

Like puzzle pieces trapping
scrambled sand in an hourglass;
only meaningful when time
elapses through an atom of sand.

Those puzzle pieces
are scattered and raw
small, radiant words
and bleary, missing faces.

Typically vivid when
they're glued correctly to show
a painting of a hidden memory;
it's a noisy, deserted strand.

So whenever we fight
I'll willfully lose my psyche;
to replay back the moment
I embraced you in my sight.

If you live your life to follow the sunset
You'll surely end up where you started,
For beauty is fleeting like the day
And charm is deceptive; it passes away. 
But when evening is nigh
As the sun elapses sky,
When the age of winter approaches
And pursuit of youth is all but hopeless,
I'll hold you and look love in the eyes
Clutching close my everlasting sunrise.

It is true
When they say
You're not you
When you're hungry
It ruins your day
When your belly is empty
Of plentiful joy
Then the slightest disturbance
Can leave you annoyed
And in dealing with others
Be flippant and curt
And in making progress,
Listless and inert
It reverts you to primacy,
Primitive need
And converts sharing, caring
To hording and greed
And will lead you to do
What you wouldn't dare deign
To consider permissible
Ways to attain
Your next meal
When you hear
Only your stomach rumbles
Succumbing to them
Just as the
Cookie crumbles
Until irrepressible
Monsters emerge
To devour whatever in sight
Can encourage
You to
Once again
Crack a mollified smile
Until the resurgence
Beguiles the bile
And after a while
Elapses, redaction
For while it grasps
At your brief satisfaction
You think only of
What remains
You can ration
As later-on's pangs
Boomerang
Right back atch'ya
The moment the flavor
Can no more be savored
And cravings enslave you again
To the anger

Abruptly being brought back to this life
After hours of coming to know a new one
Leaves a strange empty void in my mind.
It plays vividly, only in the first seconds of morning
Though time replaces the metaphoric visions of fantasy
With superficial visions of reality  
And the longer time elapses,
It becomes altered to seem just a distant memory
Too long ago to remember
Too significant to forget
Before it soon disappears into the void of the subconscious.
There is a strange, empty feeling without it  
And I long for it to come back
What was once thought of as reality
Is now simply a suppressed reverie

Your presence muddles time,
Suspending its consequence
Hours stretch to days
Minutes melt away
Seemingly unconfined

But as we are apart
Another shift occurs
Time elapses
Slow as molasses
Ever to be endured

And I cannot wait
To be back again
Where never is there late
And time has lost its end.

Inside of his eyes his innocence runs around.
Lost within this spinning thrown;
of apathy and ignorance.
Staring misery in the face at every glance he takes upon his own reflection looking back in the mirror.

The time elapses and then he sees the pain that he's given her.
Frustration building up in his lungs and Escaping through his fists.

It shatters.

Pieces of himself lay across the ivory whirlpool thats holding him-
Up up and away that feeling goes as his knuckles cry while he looks back to the mirror.

Misinterpreted illusions that mirror brought to his vague opaque mind making his thoughts and actions spin out of control.

Maybe she was right and he is the problem,
or maybe shes wrong and he's nothing but the monster inside her.
Scratching at the surface and polishing her eyes-
waiting to succumb to the lies that she's telling herself he is.

But he's not a monster and shes just an illusion,
An illusion the mirror brought.
But that silver plated glass has shattered,
So now those eyes of her's shall dull.

                                                 Alysia Marie 2014 ©

Time
            elapses
                            regardles­s

Together..........or........... *apart


*Tormented in wending milliseconds

The hills of Monte Mario
Drinking his goblet of wine Gallo
Well, Hello! I see the colored sands
Those far away places but no
happy faces in the promised land
I could  imagine pinks swaying
the corals her lips always playing

All love to be artistic with morals
Mezzaluna my moon awaits
Hearing my voice more shapes
of the Grecian countryside how it suits
both of their taste
The temples keep drawing
inside our hearts

Like a restaurant name Spartacus
love sometimes ruins us colors
Stay true like the rainbow
But time elapses and spoils us
Taking the whole dessert just
the two of us
Or love divided one of us

Beauty in our walk Green Gables
More Pillars to design
Temples and rear find artifacts
All shapes and colors you see coming
on the outskirts
Grecian beachy sand Godly waves
with your lover in the water
Got stung how it hurt her feet

Mezzalemium hearing playful drums
Hearing a familiar beat
Playing in the wilderness of dirt
The ****** of the night *** cake
he hums
The ancient stadium  hard work pays off
The roses color shades divine pink
Lips high as the pillars red wine  stained
your Grecian silk pillows
Thr Grecian times of food colors
and desires all mine
The colors that I shadow
Weeping beauty willow
Lifted her juices of sexuality  
(Sunshine Grand Marnier)
something
sparks my vision

The color of pleasure French
Pillars stand tall and slender
Handsomely love fusion
His color I try to mellow
My color touched another
The mind of drama
((Grecian Goddess))
It's not handing for a hand
in  a marriage like a pixel
The big statuette like models  
We also treasure the thing we lost
The colors will be there
We will always see them
They are in our family never
to leave them

Classic trepidation, stationary with the aura of
Coincidence, slit myself and call it skyward thinking
Sinking feelings that argue for a sudden resignation
Conscientiousness, leprous and typesetting

Intimate knowledge that I disclose verbatim cannot, and should not, ever be used against me.
Interest infected through wavelengths, non responsive partly cause of the rupturing that's been running through my dreams.
Scant as fixes to the problems, overblown and oft forgotten, lisping when I speak of this Epiphany.
Taxidermist furnish houses, howling wolves that get devoured, sounds like God and hell and them finally worked out peace.

Just cosmetic, slightly pathetic the ease at which the mind elapses
Classics retconned till nothing's left except the years of influence
Invested in the melancholy, snobs lobbyist and in distant memories

I.

Time elapses, clock’s dumb head says it all.
                   Not you. To lose sight of. X is where you stood,
           and this is where you will begin without my grace.

   Imagination as toll, if a thing hurtling is to punch into
        the wall defending you, what sound will startle? Imagine marionettes
           moving to no strings. A god sitting on top of our heads, like a pin
       to commence a fractal of dance. If this dance is memory, we know its accuracy.
      But what is its color? I tremble at the thought of your feet
                         setting in pale soil. I may have answered.

II.

   It joys me to be wrong, when the gorgeous agony of pain
            is what binds us together. Each to each, the real time not any longer
         hers, but mine of only difficult pattern. Let me revel in this heroism.

III.

   Things continue to move as I do not. Starting at the center, sure to break
     hem. I ran out of words to name this. Not elegiac. Perennial but short.
              In all extensions, elastic like water. Hairbreadth as in none other but plunge,
             drowned in a marvelous catch. In my hand, a piece of the moon
   twitches, drifting as a signal of life, in a certain mode
                               of hearsay: in the night she thinks of  you.

IV.

   I grant light to things but they cannot see its father. This room is anxious of
its vicious clutter. I must move out, beginning with old paint, crumpled papers,
   dust on the ground, shyness of the sheet’s accent erasing its folds from last night.
   Only the kind order is to do and undo.         Time continues from this intermission.
   I write only to regret. I have so much to say
   to you, but never to one another.

V.

           I broke the news without delicadeza. This is resounding of traction. This has us
           naked, crawling towards a predicate. A fine practice of
     moving towards a parallel edge,
     facing different directions when done.
      I broke the news: *I broke. You amalgamate. Time stops. You must continue on.

It's funny the mess we make when in love our hearts collide, we hardly think ahead or of the time to say goodby. It is the moment that we're in,  and fulfilling our desires, love rarely keeps its bond in times of forging in lifes fire. The work it really takes to mend, and bend, and fortify, it is greater than most wills and that's when love will thrive or die, and sadly here I am once again upon some ashes, but I will not repeat the same as precious time elapses. I've finally learned the truth after reliving all these lessons, that's investing in myself and fortifying my own essence. So here's to me, myself, and I, and may this future bring, all my efforts, dreams, and passions, unto life so joyfully.

Living on borrowed time since  our birth,
We strive to reach our arms and grasp
The universal mysteries.
Think: a human life elapses in a cosmic blink.
Love, Knowledge or Faith
are the Distinct Wines served in Life;
Who dared to deeply drink from the offer'd cup,
To keep at bay Death's everlasting Kiss?

J Eduardo Ramos©

I couldn't let go. And just say no, because I'm an addict and once I got into the flow there's no doubt that the ps4 went into rest mode. When the poem that I wrote for you was lost to the abyss I grew despondent and may have suffered paralysis a minute or two before this revision. Here I sit with a stale cigarette because it's been a while. And I'm not talented, so after reading your poems I've decided to steal your style. Then I made a decision to cut the lights, making the room dark. Because maybe if I shut off a sense or two my mind could begin to spark.

And quit berating me like a shark over losing that last thought. Even though I know you feel that kind of energy that I'm so desperately trying to lay bare naked for you to see so ******* unapologetically.

So once again I apologize for my intrusion. I'll try to keep it short and to the point and omit the confusion... Just let that raw spongy meat fill the sink like a blood soaked delusion. I'm like a fungus trying to find that tender feeling. The very same that's left me reeling. Congealing at the mouth for a minute or two until I let the tears run that had been concealed as if in a Sun fusion tomb.

And not to be rude but these first lines are garbage. I wanted to save that last one because at least there was some heartfelt flow. Not just rhymes and the due time of some clandestine woe. Here we go.. I can't do this. It's like the moment has passed because it got ruined. And now I can't get back to the place where I'm imagining your face or our palms interlaced...

And now my phone is dying. I'm scrambling to the charger deranged and out of place. I can't let the phone die then one more time curse the sky and wonder why. I won't take it as a sign that these words aren't meant to be written while I'm trying to remember only what the last one said like it needed this phony precision... Just acting crazy and coddling this vision like it's my baby. Like 7AM is a normal time to still be up. I don't know, maybe? Maybe it's because I've been thinking about you lately. And the thought of that had me in denial, lady. And look at me getting cocky with what I say. Like I can stand here and act queer and make sloppy jokes like that's okay!?

Maybe that's the reason why I can't sleep. Because I can't even hide my pride any more this time. I'm tired of rhyming. I just want to touch on what you used to tell me was a piece of me that was inspiring. I'd be lying if I said I have any of it left because any notion of that premise is so much less than deft. And here I go thinking I'm about to touch upon what's left in my heart when I know just how it will end but no idea where to start. Maybe it will come to me if I talk about dreams. Something innocent enough to dilute my own selfish reprieve.

What you meant to me.. Has me stricken with grief. Every word that I write feels like a giant hypocrisy. Every time that I think these thoughts I want to drown myself in my sleep.

And now I have that other poem that's going through my head but you have no ideas as to how it sounded or what it said. I described myself as a felon for what I did to you. How I stole your time for my own designs that much I know is true. But the truth of the matter is I can't stop the superfluous rush of rhyming words that want to come and they need to hush up. I'm trying to come from the heart. And all I can say is that I'm in a lot of pain just trying to relay... Trying to close my eyes and enter that flow state. For you I will.. I'm awake with my intent. It's almost eight but not too late for me to tell you just how I feel. If I try to rhyme it's not going to be right. It kills me inside that it's hard to fight. But I guess that's typical. Because I'd rather think of what to say next than be literal. Because I'd rather be a figurative criminal than dig deeper. I'd rather grow cynical than for once just face the reaper. I know my character when I despise my own reflection that alternates between this state and a newly found perception Because I'd rather be an outcast. Reject and misunderstood preacher than a disciple... and I'm my only rival.. But this isn't a confession to you and this digression isn't the Bible...

Just a predecessor to an elaborate truth and one at which I've been so uncouth. I see a black hole when I close my eyes. I know that I tell lies and hide behind alibies so my vacancies are my disguise. Now does that suffice for my ******* ego? Can I finally tell someone that I love just how hard it was to let go. How two years have passed and nothing feels so special because someone met tonight lead me to retrograde and that was heavy.. But it was more like an epiphany. It forced my pride and opened wide the holes I have inside. The very same that came from the time we said goodbye. When I forced your hand and took that stand and created a divide. I try and I try to convince myself that I miss the idea of you. But I'd be lying. I changed things up and pressed my luck but here's to trying. The stupid rhymes won't go away. They think it's safe. They think it's dignified, composed, and chaste. Whatever their reasons they fight being erased. And I guess that's the next wave of emotion I have to face..  

Even in a room with no-one around. I have to think about how it was you who lifted me into the clouds, and I in turn always brought you to the ground. I do believe the love we had was profound. I knew that you could speak to me without a sound.

And yet we still drowned, and I'm left shaking, still headstrong and rationalizing and faking. Still ******* rhyming even though this is the second poem in the making. How I managed to render the most precious bond I had forever forsaking it. What I'm left with to know is that I have no right after all this time to come into your life.

What I've learned is there's a difference between what you know and what you believe. In a moment of clarity I know what I've got is deserving. And then choose to believe in nostalgia and empty tears. Because Nissa, darling, it's been two years. And you're a new person in the moment I was here. Somehow I hope that one day you will read this little post-it note that means more to me than any wisdom or quote in the few passages here that aren't cunning or rote. It wasn't meant for many eyes to see. But I can't take this familiar loneliness haunting me. And there I go trying to connect synapses into the next day like it matters as time elapses
I lay here in bed with nothing to say but convey memories within my head. They don't fill me with dread, I reminisce with a soft version of sober ringing like the singing call of the dead. And though it was fleeting you will never leave me. So from the deaths that I've caused this to follow is what I'm bereaving. I might have been dreaming but I once was believing that all my deceit could prevent me from grieving. Like I don't already know that you're long gone and I'm still breathing. Like I don't sit here seething and still trying to rhyme or think of that last design. Like I'm not lying at all or that I haven't been crying. Washed up water methods and coping mechanisms may sedate me for a week. I don't want all of your love because for me it was enough knowing we were Nissa and Cedric.

I'm beginning to understand why they say home is where the heart is because I scream while I'm alone remembering and receive no catharsis. It's why I starve myself of necessary sleep to stay awake then soothe myself when I shake reflecting on mistakes. Now I only have to wonder about what you're doing. Because I won't reach out, ungluing and unraveling a door that's been shut when just a reminder of you washed me into a rut. It's why the ocean's waves are bringing me peace. They're consistency is what I have left to just cease and desist when I grow sullen and remiss. When I've now spent my night writing this. When I miss your kiss, but truly long for your echo. When I know I have to move on now but I won't let go. I love you. Just in case.. You didn't know.