:3I fall asleepalready dreamingmy headonto your chest.
Intuition.Call me paranoid,but I'm starting to seeyou're not as lostas you'd like me to think...
Lost.I'm the kind of lostwhere all that's left isthe faith that the sunhas to come up eventually.
Jealousy.I fear not hellFor it is herePent up in a chestCold as dungeons.My ribs and teeth bear gaps,the coldest of drafts.The curse of jealousy.
Easy.We don't need easy.We will hold the impossiblebetween the fingersof our joined hands;A trialthat would reducekings to cold sweats,And together now,in the labyrinthwe have both wanderedin screaming solitude,We willwith a single breathset free the leaveson each branchto dance,liberated,before falling exhaustedbeside our shoes.And in doing so,we willcut the dead endsand the ambiguityand the painwill be foreigninstead of familiar.We will make easy.
Remembrance.I rememberthe coarse feelof the tepid sandbeneath our feetas we stumbled over them:two poets,ballroom dancersbeside a stale creek,if onlyfor a nightand if onlyat the bottomof a bottleof Chardonnay.I rememberyour blissful faceandyour chaotic hairjust as the sun came upover our bodiesstill naked,our skin still drunkoff the touchof each other'sfingertips;thatserenity,satisfaction,andsweetness.My cheeks remember your lasheshow they flutteredas our kisses deepened;the subtle sweet of love.And it's a good ache,And I press itgingerlylike a bruise,And I listento those bluesas they spread outunder my skin.
Grateful.I am endlesslygratefulto you,Who sawmyheartand called ithome.
Oblivion.We've all got a blinddate with oblivion andlateness just won't do.
like you.I sit up at nightwatching the ceilingso as not to missthe end of the worldlike you.I carry stones in my pocketsbecause I'm too squeamish to cutbut I like to carry my sadnesslike you.I collect old photographsbecause I like to imaginethe old worlds in their eyeslike you.I came into the worldscreaming and bloodylike you.But inside my chestblinks a vacancy signlighting ribsthat would otherwise restin a dark calm.(we only have so long to be beautifuland I want to share it with you.)
Fireworks.So many diamondsconcurrent withthe grislylamentations of warfare;Rough thingswith radiance wed.A night alight with war stories,light seized fromthe soulsof the wearyalready so far removedfrom their glory days,Seeking amenityin the napes of pale necksand in rouge lip stainon shirt collars.Less-than-sweet,oh-so ignorant no-namesbest-dressed withblood money.Celestial unrest,lawless and unapologetic,A celebrationof livesforfeitedfor an ideology.Chemical confections calledto illuminate apitch black parking lot.Artificial firefliesfallingto untimely deaths,leaving,in their absence,a skyreturned toslate.
Hangman.I cursed my hangmanuntil I remembered whosenoose was 'round his throat.
Early morning philosophy.We're already bornso thelastcertaintywe haveisdeath.
.throw my boneson the fire justto warm up yourownthen sitthere and wonderwhy you're alwaysalone
.he told me prayersare uselessand if i really want hisforgiveness, i should get onmy knees and beg
We are NOT all American Sorry but it’s true. To generalize everyone being Americanis like calling a Hamburger to aTaco. We come up with racial identityAs in to identify ourselves. Racism is still huge,Especially in America.So please don’t say itsNOT a problem anymore. We are proud to say who we are. It’s a choiceNOT some sort of shackle. Whether we be MexicanGerman,Russian,Italian,Turkish,Or evenAmerican. If you want to say I’mAfrican-American;fine. If you want to say I’mGerman-Canadian;fine. If you want to say I’mSwedish-Arab-Italian-Australian-Mexican;FINE! We set identities not because we are insecureIt’s because itsWHO. WE. ARE. So no.We are NOT all American! But we are the world.
.Life is the novel, fate is the author.
Love isLove is weaknessLove is strengthLove is lifeLove is deathLove is marriageand one night standLove is hopeIt has no endLove is faithLove is hollowLove is todayLove is tomorrowLove is tearsLove is friendshipLove is fearsLove is hardshipLove is joyLove is painLove is loveAnd it has your name
Blood Red BywaysI dreamtI was keeping a sharkas a pet,holy asa midnight cigarette.He nibbled awayat my fingers and toesand we'd leave blood red bywayswherever we'd go.And people all around us begged,"This is killing you!""He was meant to swim!"But I called it loveand it all made sense.I woke upand the sharkwore adifferentname...I have loved so wrong.
I miss you every dayI miss when we used to talk about anything.How free the words did flow between us.I miss the gentle encouragement from them.Either a guidance when troubled or for a laugh.You words spoken only from your heart.I miss talking to you every day.I miss when we used to sit alone together.Not speaking but letting the world speak for us.Trapped within our own thoughts of life,But we were always in company to each other.Leaning against one another or against something else.I miss sitting with you alone every day.I miss the smile that chased any danger away.I would come to see you and it would flash at me.It was contagious, I would spontaneously smile.Of course it was you who always did that to people.Your smile chased away all thoughts of death.I miss seeing your smile every day.I miss the times we often embraced.Those times of strongest bond or fear.They sealed our friendship much closer every time.Nothing could break a true chain made with love.A love that only existed b
SufferingThe eyes see, the heart doesn't
#4it's not like i'm suicidal. it's just that some days i think it'd be easier if i was, y'know?
My rapture. (2012-02-13)The spring begins within your eyes,Petals and the bract unfolding.The agreement of our cobalt skiesBehind the light you are holding.That charmed smile reassures me,Omitting any doubt life gives.The walls come down a'plenty,And again you let me live.
How muchHow much would I have to say,To show how much I missed you.How much would I have to scream,To show the pain you left me.How much would I have to cry,To show how much you meant to me.How much would I have to silence the demons,To show I will not join you in your mistake...
We Are All InsaneWhat ifWe are allINSANE?And societyIs theASYLUM?
BeautifulAnd I would gladlygive my lifefor just one dayof being beautiful.
as if asleepIShe lies, all aflush with color;her wide eyes half open,and a willow branch caressingher gently curved cheekbone.IIAs the sun drifts offher face, thrown into darkness,is made wild by shadowsand no amount of catharsisin this setting idylliccan bring back the light.
The New MeI am beautiful, my life's an artI will smile, because I am worth itI am a different kind of perfectI will be loved, and I am loved nowI am my own kind of proudI have not lost, indeed I am still hereI have nothing to fear
Truth.You brokea partofmeIdon'tknowhow tofix.