I like to crawl into small spaces, now and again.
Immersed in my mind’s ocean of overwhelming thoughts.
If I could go any lower than I already am, laying on cold hardwood floors, I would.
For in these 7 minutes of tears-induced silence, I muse over my humanity.
Because as much as I exude strength, I breathe fragility.
Broken pieces put together, with gleaming cracks occasionally letting through life’s unpleasant winds.
Of a home – pure, untamed, sensual, and ethereal.
Lodged in a heart of unheard sonnets and desirable poetry.
Time flies when you swallow your words in loud gulps.
Down a cup of lies to suppress your realities.
There’s only a handful of disappointments you can handle;
Before you breakdown like a clock in need of new batteries.
A lifeless face.
Hoping to graciously slip into existence.
To be more than just a quick thought;
a view to sooth your lonely ego.
To dream of a time where I can be a daily need;
Like the pills you depend on.
You’d be insane without them.
Want and desire me that way!
To be constantly at reach to satisfy your cravings.
But I’ll always be just a silhouette to you.
Existing but lifeless.
Chasing unending fantasies in my still frame.
I want to revel in my own joy,
And dance to the tunes of my throbbing heartbeat.
There’s nothing like learning to fall in love;
Slowly, Deeply, Wholly –
The space between my actual thoughts and your location.
Sometimes wounds need air to heal;
but if you drink enough alcohol, sooner or later it starts to taste like love.
So grab a bottle; a glass for aesthetic –
and fill your lungs till they gasp for air like love isn’t your only motivation.
Tonight – as a cricket whispers by your dimly lit bedside,
Your lips caress my temple.
Gently tracing lines engraved by life’s moments.
Lightly easing my pain, as you subdue my wistful thoughts.
Touch like the wind, and lips like Sunday morning rain.
It doesn’t get any better than this.
I’m not at war with you.
Just gracefully battling my inner fiend.
Devoting time to my uncouth dreams; whilst I journey through my youth with little care.
Solemnly, joyfully, and still yet grudgingly.
His emotions are tied to the soul of an old flame.
To the taste of every lip she caresses.
He seeks pleasure in spasms from her new lovers –
Envious of the passion that oozes from their sighs.
Relentlessly pursuing someday where these memories become nothing but a dull glow.
Flicker. Flicker. Dead.