a stabbing shiver corrodes my limbs
goosebumps lick my heart
a fat cramp strokes my lips
and terror waves my mind
freezingly hot blood
flushes twisted nerves
sweet foul shudder makes
all memories awake
blurry visions of happiness
worm into cutting blade
hissing a haunting realization:
that it is too late.
naivety suggests
a joyful brand new start
but the naked present screams
that you grew apart

Its exactly 1095 days ago..
When the love I knew flee from my path
The sweet rhythm turned sour
As my heart bolt out through the door
Leaving no trail to follow

A miserable me turn apart
Laying helpless with no heart
The warmth of the weather
Felt freezingly cold
And the comfort of the night
No longer suits

I could remember my dreams turning into a wild mare
And even the cool siesta
Was all itchy
My smooching pillow grew thorns

In my miserable self
In all broken mirror
Picking up my pieces in no piece
Trying to plaster the remnant of me
Just 1095 days ago

It all seems like the world will end in no good time
But in my remembrance of this days
I'd found myself lost within
The tick of it tide

And now,
The love that is sure been replaced
Is back
Knocking at the same door it bolted out
Through
Just 1095 days ago

night, when freezingly encounters my cheeks, some slightness rouges them
like roughed almost cheeks
like when you lay a hurting kiss upon them by the languorous hammer of

thy paleset palm. like, i do, how kindly unkind stinging your touch deftly
embraces their(mycheecks)
puffed unrude metal. and it blisters with the painful bud of cherry wreak

He drinks, he forgets
Where he is and why he is there.

He begins to lose himself in his darkness,
Begins to erupt from within.

He stops caring,
Or begins to care too much.

He wishes himself born again
in the purifying sunlight of dappled spring mornings, because he wishes to start over again.

He starts to do things harder than ever,
He gives himself over to the mercury of the moment,
He bathes in his own sin,
Finds the wash of it freezingly refreshing
And repulsive all at once.

He stops talking,
Starts wishing to enjoy the ornateness of youth.

Feels he's old at 25,
Starts to change his mind.

Forgets everything he's learned over a quarter century
And goes back to rudderless childhood,
Even worse in adulthood.

I traveled through a wooded land
To a high suspension bridge that
Was only wide enough for one to
Pass.  the canyon at great depth
Above the river far below.  It was
almost freezingly cold.  I could
See a great range of misty peaks
Before me.  Then my feet seemed
No longer to completely touch the
Wood but as if being placed on a
Cushion of air compressed not
Completely down.  Then my
Aged companion said: It is the
Rising air that protect the child
Still in the womb.  Then I knew
The Truth, I should not take  the
Crown for it belonged to one not
Yet born but it was art to know.
And was for peace not for grief.