You know that I want you. I'm sure of it.
But still the little tortures come.
Your cheshire smile glowing brightly.
Your hand holding mine to your side.
Your unbridled compliments and playful digs
Each with their subtle symptom of love.
But you don't love me. You just love being loved.
And I'm tired of writing poems about you
And screaming to the heavens that I am yours.
If you were alone on a mirrored floor
Could only see yourself in strange perspective
Looking down at yourself always
Making judgements about faraway skies
If you were alone on a glassy ocean
Could feel the dark depths below you *******
Your leaden heart weighing you down
Yearning for a wave to throw you aloft
If you were alone falling through space
The wind in your lungs like liquid glass
Spinning in turmoil with no beginning, no end
Confused forever in some bright genesis of light
Then you would know
What standing near you
Does to me
She has always thought about being loved
How nice it could be
But who would ever love a broken girl
Without ending up broken too?
I continue in darkness while
supposed light shines in the distance;
distant and unattainable
beyond a purple fog on its hands and knees
feeling its way through the night
like an angel of death.
Where is the light so many refer to?
I’ve died a thousand deaths but only seen
the purple fog nothingness creeping like
a rising river
tumbling over sand bags.
I have not seen light.
Published at Pyrokinection in January 2013
the keys to my love
lie in your pockets,
in the pair of shorts
you threw out today.
I wished for you
I craved you for days on end
I got to see the way
your lips form around the precipice
of my name
I felt your hand on my waist
as your touch provokes every minute nerve
in my body
I drowned myself in the
depth of your eyes
that glisten with wonder as you
the spell you've cast upon me
and how it speaks volumes of every
fairytale ever made
and I have had a taste of all of this
I've had you
right within my breadth,
just until the warmth
of the rising sun
kissed my eyelids awake,
like the tender whisper of the
or the discordant bellowing
of the void
as it reminds me:
You are unattainable.
Right then again I was able to
that you will remain an illusion to me
until our paths cross once more
and in that moment,
nothing will be capable of surpassing
of the mere reality that is you
This is actually the one I'm most proud of.
I can't tell you how I really feel
that you destroy me when you're near
when your eyes glance at me
my heart stops beating
and all I ever wanted was you
but you're unattainable
and there's pain in this pleasure soup I’m cooking in
the look in your eyes when you grin
a world I want to explore
suppress these feelings
I can no more
But I must
and I trust you'll forget about me
after 5 pm
Love is something the cosmos, even in their infinite wisdom cannot fathom.
Love is the bleeding periwinkle of twilight.
A moment; fleeting and seemingly unattainable.
An ache so embedded within your consciousness no amount of togetherness can subdue it.
Romeo and Juliet know that ache.
But could even they understand what it's like to see the heavens in the eyes of another?
Wheels no spokes
Board rollin down alleys
Late night skate
Let me escape
The life I never planned
Never on time
You best lower your expectations
Snortin molly in the bathroom
Chuggin ***** in the hall
I could be anywhere at all
But I’d still crawl
back to the clutches of dependence
I forfeited life's race in the first lap
Yet I'm still trapped
Coughing up blood
I strive for nothing
I don't want to feel
I long to be free
Our culture has maxed out
So now everyone wants to shout
for help because what the world wants
We try to overdose
And become comatose
To drop all worries of material success
Stacks on stacks on stacks
Racks on racks on racks
its just paper
Not what defines us
The rest is up to the people
To rise about the atmosphere
Of atoms and mold supportive molecules from the elements we're presented
Not corrected like a sent typo
To your mom
Fathom the slack of a slacker
Loosen your ropes
And walk the plank
With no hopes of disaster nor triumph
To just be
I wouldn't say this is old but it's from a good set of months ago.
The world's idea of perfection
Which is why people are never satisfied
Isn't that what those of power want
People to never be satisfied
So they try to mold themselves
Into something that no one can be
They attempt to be
Manipulate their flesh
Until it's just right
They will never achieve something
They will never be satisfied
Even though they strive to be
Because it's all
never call me
you are in love with him
i am just your friend
doesn't change how much
i love you
but he doesn't even love you
Gulls, gannets brooding
vying for plankton
Acrobatic flights, flappings
Swarm the blue
Chirping, tweeting another
To lave the silvery sea.
Impishly unclad moppets
Running and frolicking,
Some helping their
Fishermen father untwine nets
The evening venture their chaste aim.
Over the horizon
Is the Yellow Face
Lustring like a
Gigantique Bohemian Chandelier
Lapping on the repose waters.
Someday when am ripe and mellow
With means to own a crew
I will sail up that mulky horizon
And touch that glowing cosmic disc.
But mater says
"The horizon doesn't end"
"It goes in league miles"
"Even when a yore mile is sailed"
"It's unattainable, puerile and trifling" She'd opine.
Only these chiding words of hers
I never take for a dime,
I will engage in my venture
I will stand to be corrected.
This is my only demure dream
I will endeavour and suckle her
I wouldn't want an elegiac ending
In this beach I've known for eon.
A piece for anybody who holds dream of sailing the world over.