Another One

I hear whispers of "wake up" but this dream has me head-locked into submission of nauseating ache and disillusionment. It's a night terror that's beginning to feel like a routine swallow of uncomfortable toleration. The scene is set. The rolls are played. I look devastation in the face. I watch the peddles fall one by one from the one I love. My heart is slowly and consummately torn. My breath fails to return to me and I stand there fading in plain sight. Numbness consumes my flesh and blood. My soul has died with my love. I weep. I weep? Pain is still prevalent? I wake.

I gasp from the pain that has stalked me to my consciousness. The twisted sheets circles my body with a halo of sweat. My heavy breathing dampens the sound of my pounding heart. I sit up and wonder when it will end.

Fear

So much fear in such a small place. The universe stretches on for life times yet all we know is the fear in our face. It's the fear we wake up to every morning. It's the fear that keeps us up at night. Hot beads of sweat suffocate our dreams. We thrust lights on, bolt doors, build barriers, and still it haunts our souls.

We fight at... nothing. Something's there, but we swing and have no satisfaction in destruction of anything, scream but can't hear the echos of anger.

Quiet Light

The curtains frame the gray sky and the window panes transform the light as I watch you sleep. You lay still under a blue lit room. Silence swallows the world and we are left alone. Tempting illumination graces your silk peach skin, your face glows with sincerity and innocence. My eyes explore your silhouette as my hand falls gently onto your side. It slides down your supple skin as I brase firmly, your lush curves. I drift in and out of sleep as time drifts with us.

Contradistinction of Adoration

Contusion, confusion, no conclusion, a freight train of pain. Love falls like rain, washing away worries, miniscule flurries, like the old stories. It feels impressed and preserved with the seal of years of Clark Gables and fairy tale fables. Til thunder strikes and pikes the spikes of divorce and diverge, of difference and distance. We run like ants, everything to fear, losing everything we hold dear.

I am insane, inane, sick of games. I want you happy, you make me sappy. I want you content, you make me resent. I am deranged, drained, and proclaimed. I am vivacious, audacious, and free. This is what you make me.

Deep Sleep

Sleep falls heavy. Eyes weak and resistance weaker. My mind drains to a declining drip. Traffic of thought and worry fade quickly. The body tingles of urgency to rest. Breathing pulses in the background before the shades close and the show begins. Quiet, dark, alone, and asleep with peace.

Anger

Thrash, smash, break, violate. I hate, I hate, I don't hesitate to throw out, throw away, total dismay. My skin boils the more I sit, I want to hit, kick, grab and stab. I'm pissed off. I'm angry. This is me, not passive, not quiet, not nice, not pleasant. I'm wrong, I'm out of place, I'm not giving a fuck. I'm tired of caring and people starring at the man with good morals. Punched the wall until my knuckles bled, scream until my hearing's dead. Take the bat to the tree and start a destruction spree. Kill the humane, choke the righteous, drown the witty, but most of all show no pity. Weak never worked, I'm always hurt and now I'm angry.

Fireworks in September

Fireworks in September change everything about the season, every previous notion. The colors fill my soul with passion. Explosions of red shimmer, light up the darkness with zeal of love and lust. Orange and yellow flares fly by like spontaneous and sporadic pleasures life often reveals when we least expect. Some are staggering but short lived while others blaze across the sky like the longest shooting star. Dark blue bulbs fire off like cannons of dull ache and longing but quickly dissolve into the heavy black canvas. But with every color, emotion, heart break or heart wake, there is a constant sign of light accompanying. The white lights flood the sky with clarity, purity, and possibility like the intensity and brilliance of ignited magnesium.

Though the lights are passing, this clarity is lasting.