Knowing You

Knowing you is knowing me,
Pain creeps in and won't let me be.
The lose I live still follows blind,
thought it would lose itself behind.
The rock I kick crumbles,
time is hard to pass when all the world grumbles.
Firetrucks yell clear as a bell from my bed.
Life is hell because I fell in my head.
Knee's are bleeding but not from pleading.
Laugh off what I lost. I don't say what I let loose.
Self-inflicted for little use.
Close my eyes tight,
see you lying naked in the light.
Knowing you, my memories have won,
dream of yesterday 'til tomorrow's sun.

Release

My brain is fried from all those lies.
I'm overwhelmed with ache and grief,
my shoes no longer fit my feet.
I'm aging fast and growing small,
my dreams get far and start to fall.
I lose my views from crowds around,
people saying I'm hell-bound.
But all I do is sit and stare,
listen in on all their prayers.
I piece together my odd hands,
play and gamble until I'm a man.
I laugh a lot to ease my pain
and cry a lot when love's to blame.
My life's my own and I'm content.
God only knows my true intent.

Four Days

Stay up late, contemplate. It's been four days and still I ache. Check my phone, check my mail, check my mind and then exhale. No happiness. Guilt, blame, and bitter pain. It hurts. It's not the same.

Park Bench

Love seems to come and go more frequent and in shorter duration. People on the sidewalk pass by holding hands while I eat my string cheese and apple alone quietly on the park bench. It's a beautiful day but seems to be bogged by sadness.

As I walk to class I catch a glance of a girl walking toward me. Suddenly I feel the need to pull her aside and spill my thoughts. Playing the scene in my head, I imagine she recognizes my thoughts as if they were her own and she is so glad I jumped on the sporadic gumption.

She walks by and I, eyes to the ground, smell her perfume. Inhaling regret, staying quiet but know the pain of speaking up, reaching out, and opening. Some day... someday might never come.

Unclear which inflicts the most change, regret or the pain of loss. Or possibly the loss of pain and regret when life starts to change for the better.

Cry

My nose starts to tingle. I feel my eyes swelling hot and cheeks warm. My emotions crash onto my heavy face, broken. The water pours from my eyes like a salty faucet and yet my lids are clenched shut, mouth open, teeth exposed. Saliva strings like a web as I pant my gallon drum lungs. My body exhausts itself onto the floor as if I had tripped into a dark hole. My mind is blinded by wet blur. I seem to repeat the same phrases over and over, each time growing more passionately, raspy, and rough.

Time is only understood with a pulsing headache and worn expression. The arms and legs lay limp with short convulsions from gasping air. Yawn.

Anguish freezes involuntarily.

I exhale feeling expended, my will for contentment going out with my breath. My sleeve is lined with dark streaks where I wiped my nose like I did as a child. Skin shades of flesh and red pattern the outside of my eyes from tightly held mien. 

Once ashamed, now exposed to all the pain that was enclosed.

Warm Fiction Fixation

The outside is hushed by falling snow. Flake by flake we are tucked in for this winter night. White blankets glow blue from the deep and distant moon. 

The fire is warm, the smell of oak entices us. It crackles and pops to entreat our attention. But the only notice I give it is of the flickers of amber in the reflection of your eyes. I can not look away.

Your skin is soft, tenter to the touch. I bury my face next to your ear to say nothing. Silent kisses in the dark dim light. Your hair tickles my nose but releases a sweet aroma. The same fragrance that seems to wander behind you every time we cross paths.

The sight of you, studying each of your features in such intimacy, fills me with contentment. My heart is a ruby red like the luminescent embers from the fire. My heart radiates warmth throughout my body, from head to toe. I cover your icicle toes with mine like a heated blanket. You cuddle yourself gently into my chest like two halves finally making a whole. We stare at the wild flames as they dance all night long casting shadows on the walls. And I hold you, there in my arms, drifting fast asleep.

Self-destructive

I see it coming in the distance. The day is clear, my sight is blind.

You beat your head against a mirror. Ironic or appropriate?

I stand in this sinking sand waiting for you to stop and turn around. Ironic or appropriate?

Proving a point never felt so meaningful as it does now. Saving a soul just before you loose your own. It's the principle. 

I see only in the color of love. Ironic or appropriate?

Amateur

Twenty-one years pass and yet I say, "amateur," -- to love, to wisdom, to brotherhood, all the same.

Beginnings never seem to cease and success never to ensue. No experience can take away the pain of the never ending, ever refining love. An owl who knows is an owl who sows into the knowledge of the elder; for those are the ones with experience in beginnings. They perform, they foresee not like magicians but mathematicians, calculating vain with sane.

Oh my brother. I see you over there. I say "hello," but the static noise is too loud, I say "come over," but the people are too proud. Inexperienced, I will continue to love.

infinitus

The Darkness

Under the cover of night and many dark shadows we go out into the world as the nocturnal animals our habits have created us to be. The clanking silverware against the clay plates sent chills up your spine. You were quiet, holding your peace for a few moments more, then unleashed.

The dishes were cleaned, the apartment was vacuumed. I took out the trash, you made the bed. You locked up while I fetched the car. Two blocks down and to the left, three flights up and on the right. We drove miles away and with each mile, buried our past. I did not argue any longer. I had no energy. I did not know. I was blinded by naivety as you knew.

As I fall asleep I see our hide-out on Lamar. It's not far, but enough for you to get your mind off the people that hold you back. There's a psychedelic Jimi hovering over as you order the same as many times before. All I do is watch and smile. All I can do is watch and smile. The table between us is hardly what stops me. Your fear of others opinions pushes my back roughly up against the vintage 70's pleather. I am pinned by your vigilant thoughts of those around us.

Blind. We talk, we jest, we make it a pleasant moment for a difficult situation. I kiss you on your soft sensual lips and tear myself apart from you, leaving just a frayed edge. You retreat back to your forest of concrete and steel, the wolves are waiting. I leave but am alone. I am in darkness and alone.

Deliverance

[---] is whoever you want him to be, because apparently being me isn't neat. I don't know you. I don't know me. But every time I try, I get beat.

I want to be free, I want to be free, I want to be free.

But the words don't place themselves and the motions don't take control.

Society is cruel indeed. Love and trees are all I need.

Love love love and trees are all I need.

Keep me rooted in the organic, keep me far away from the panic.

All I need from you is to be my little growing liberty seed.

Love

The most universal language. It is spoken in every continent, beautiful in every form. Yet so few individuals succeed to articulate.

Love is a lost tongue in a fast world. It takes a slow tongue to speak to the world.

Until we learn to speak with clarity, I shall pray for our posterity.

I Thought About What You Said

I've decided to leave it all behind, as a testament. I will still capture these moments in life for history, as you said we are to do, I will just do it with other tools.

I am leaving this behind to show that this is not being done selfishly. It is being done as everyone has a time to move and a time to settle. Inside you will find many hidden and well kept secrets. Some will be secret gardens, others will be limbo. I am who I am.

I have scars and I have beauty marks, all imperfections, all perceived differently. I ask that you listen for a moment. Explore what I have left for you to find. I hope you find much more than what you see.

My Nightly Shower

I think about possibilities. Ideas cascade my thoughts like the hot water does to my face. I breath in a deep resonant steam as if for weight so that I don't float away. Nothing to cloud me, only vapor, I am open to new and wonderful beginnings.

I am brilliant, to write a book. A book of many pages to be announced a novel. But the pages have few words. They are simple. A novel is not written with verbose diction. It is written with words. Words are all I have to offer.

I am intricate, to follow the path into the woods. I have deep scars of things written on me from long ago like a tree through the years of young lust and old love. These scars are not painful unless they are ignored. When I do, they cause a great deal of white noise that I can not shake. As if to rattle residual water out of my ear, I violently thrash my head only to be found a fool and water still remaining. However, when I encourage my roots I can feel the sun warming my future as I grow closer to my past, to our past, to nature.

I am profound, to sing a song. The overwhelming power of melody and harmony. A wave of sound and soul crash down on tightly wound heart strings only to play along with the cadence of the symphony.

I am bound. These are only thoughts, these are only ideas, these are only words, and this is only a shower. The towel works in a way to dry up my ideas and to crack my thoughts. I quickly dehydrate into a withered realistic man. My clothes assure a safe keeping as if in some way doing me a favor.

How do I present myself naked to the world without becoming callas and scabbed by the rough grounds of criticism and scorn? The answer surely inhabits Utopia.

These Two Are Not The Same

Not the same as when I first was introduced. Not the same as when I first loved, cared, and belonged.

I am an oddly placed plastic mannequin in the room of two lonely statues. They are grey and brittle. What is to be done of a statue, so familiar, when cracked and shaken? Plastic is only tolerant to so much weight. 

I must leave now but timid to leave such a quiet ruin. Not for its beauty, but for its pain I must let it rest and let time heal the wounds.

Loosing Myself, Only to be Found

I ran as fast as I could to the adrenaline that pulled me. As fast as I fell, I arose internally. Although I hit walls and went down one way streets, I did not stop. My feet did not stop moving. My life is propelled by the unknown, not by fear. I have no regret. I live to learn and I learn by experience. Experience is how I learned to love.

Happy New Year

 I have always felt that this night is very critical to be doing something spectacular but after tonight... I feel like it's just another night. A good friend of mine gave me this advise that I found to be quite helpful.

"[New Years] is always built up to be an exciting night, but it really isn't. Normal nights without expectations are more fun so you should just stay at home, save your gas money and make a cake."

Well... my friend was right in my case. When I put too many expectations on this night, it usually ends badly. So I spent this New Year in my home town with friends I grew up with... getting into a little trouble making sparkler bombs and lighting fireworks.

I've never had a "New Year kiss" and I guess I'm going to wait yet another year for that to happen. Hope you all stay safe to live another year.

Happy New Year

A "Love" Story

So I have this friend who never really dated before. In fact, the word "dating" was almost never heard in his house. He never had a valentine, never had a high school sweet heart, and now that i think of it... he'd never had a girl friend at all. Then one summer he meets a woman. An amazing woman. He likes this woman. This is a good thing. The woman likes him. This, also is a good thing. The woman finds out that he is almost 5 years younger than her. This is not a good thing. So at the beginning he just befriended her and things were cool.

But before long, their attraction was undeniable. They had gotten so close to each other that they were practically dating. Things actually moved pretty fast, but my friend was fully aware of what he was doing. He opted not to tell his family and most of his friends because he was unsure just how to tell them, how they might treat him afterwards. And besides that, he finally felt that he wasn't obligated to do or tell anyone anything. So he kept it a secret. Like wise with the woman and her family, in fear of what other might think. They were... secret lovers.

For the very first time in his life he felt free. Independent. The life he wanted to live was finally his choice to make. He was in control of his life with no one to tell him different. Ironicly enough, she wouldn't let him buy even his own food when they went out. He felt humbled to say the least. She felt like she needed to take care of him. When they talked about their future together, she would jokingly call him her "man wife" because she didn't want him to work.

Long story short, 4 months later he confidently felt he was absolutely in love with this woman. At which point she decided to stop things between them. He was completely crushed. She said it would never work because they were both in different phases in life.
"If you were only older," she says. He simply can not believe that she would let age stop their love. "It's not love," she says. Each time she speaks... his heart sinks deeper into darkness. Wounded and after months of rebutting... he walks away into the silence that is loneliness once more. The end.