counterfeit

When she woke up,
She didn’t feel real.
She felt like a character in a story,
Caught between the
White space on the page,
And the beginning of the next chapter.

synchronicity

impatient hands,

lace and leather fall to the floor. 

shimmering flesh in overdrive. 

as your hand restrains my mouth,

you whisper your intent in my ear. 

unbearable. 

legs and arms intertwined,

bites, lust and moans.

gasps of pleasure

complimenting the cries of pain. 

Shhh baby...

hand around my throat,

tighter...

eyes locked

sweat beads

synchronicity...

"I love you Baby."

collapse out of breath,

but not out of energy. 

but for now,

just hold me.

Flat Line

Not everything you do
always comes out as expected or hoped.
But that’s a good thing.
Because if you never had any unexpected changes in your life,
everything would be straight
like a flat line on a heart monitor.
In other words, dead and endlessly boring...

pseudonym

I am a book of apocalypses
written in a language I don’t speak
and I have no author...

safekeeping

Every soul creates poetry, throughout its lifetime. Every time you think about life and existence, about love and about our purpose on Earth, you’re creating poetry with your thoughts. Some of us just like to write it down, for safekeeping...

painting galaxies

He carries stars in his pockets because he knows I fear the dark. 
When the daylight fades and darkness seeps through the windows,
He is there painting galaxies on the back of my hands so I will no longer fear.

self destructive

You walk through life

with your eyes closed,

holding hands with
addiction and deceit. 

You feel numb

as your blood chills. 

It thickens
and begins

to run slower

drowning your every thought

with a way to feed your habit. 

You have created a monster

so malevolent and large,

so vastly built, so ready for life

It's eating you from the inside out. 

You can't ignore it's darkness anymore. 

You give in. 

You let go. 

You cripple your soul.

You've lost control.

No one can save you now, but yourself.  

Destruction comes in many forms,

but you sweetheart...

are the greatest of them all. 

Sometimes

Most of our life is a series of images.
They pass us by like towns on the highway.
But sometimes, a moment stuns us as it happens.
And we know that this instant is more than a quick image.
We know at this moment, will live on forever and ever, no matter what.

gravity

Put your lips close to mine.

As long as they don’t touch.

Out of focus, eye to eye.

Till the gravity’s too much.

I’ll do anything you say

If you say it with your hands,

I’d be smart to walk away,

but baby you’re like quicksand..

suitcase full of demons

He has a suitcase full of demons

and it’s more than he can bear.

You can hear the sound of the plastic
dragging across the concrete.

And that endless wave of scratching

from their claws,

as they try to hold on to the ground, 

preventing him from going forward.

And he hears that sound,

replaying over and over in his head,

reminding him,

that no matter how far you go,

you will always have

a suitcase full of demons.

reality.

The irony about a writer, is that they can write something completely made up and so absolutely beautiful with exquisite vocabulary, but yet when you ask them how they really feel, they stutter and have no fucking idea how to define their reality...

lucid

you asked me to
 close my eyes the first 
time we made love,

so
 that I would not see you
 falling into the heart of another.

rebound

Love is like a rubber band.
Sometimes it will twist uncontrollably, until it snaps apart,
sometimes it will rewind and straighten out.
We are lucky if it straightens out.
It all depends on how knotted we found it,
or how hard we twisted it ourselves unintentionally.

insolent

The ego
is a hell of a drug,
cut the habit.

late

I do not know how one un-loves.
 My heart is a grave of hearts,
and I have yet seen the earth spit back out its dead.

aptitude

The beauty of life,
is that everything
is an interpretation.

Your thoughts.
Your perception.
Your reality.

divergent

He thought she was magnificent,
and there’s no doubt in saying she fascinated him,

but it was in a way where he would rather stare at her,
than any brightly lit night sky.

It was in a way where he would rather read her,
than any self provoking book.

She was someone who he would spend his life figuring out,
if it meant he got to be in her presence at all.

And he thought that would be the best part...
being there for her, even if he was struggling.

parasite

there is a radio frequency from Russia
that has been broadcasting a buzzer-like sound since 1982. 

no one knows where it comes from or what it means,
and periodically a voice reads orders, names, and numbers.
 
a ghost radio.
a ghost story.
 
when i speak, it comes out like a dial-tone. a drone.
when people talk about me, it all sounds like conspiracy theories.
"so beautiful", “so talented”, “lots of personality”.

i laugh at them.

probable

Flaws are something we all have as humans.
It’s like a sin almost.
People treat it like we don’t have them
when in reality, it's our biggest insecurity.

structure

There are tally marks on our wrists in matching formations.
They are the number of princes I have danced with...
They are the number of people you have hurt....
You tell me that you want to be cosmic,
So I draw stars on your eyelids.
I already think you are made of the universe.

puzzles

we bathe in freezing lakes
and watch our breath turn into clouds.
when we get tired of being ourselves,
we transfuse our blood with each others for a day or two,
try and put the pieces back together in the other person’s mind.

but i know that i am made of toxic chemicals...

and the more you piece me back together
the more you create poison for yourself,
the more you try to become me
the more you’ll become poison, too.

disease

I'm a special breed.
One of a kind.
I am a disease.
An addiction.
Once you taste me you're mine.
I'm your best nightmare, your worst dream
In your head I hide
Devouring you from the inside
Feeding off your memories
I'll break you
I'll hate you
And you'll love me back
You can't shake me
You've tried
You've begged
You've cried
You can't live without me,
it'd be suicide.

the moment

soft morning sun delivered a smokey haze
over the coffee colored sheets,
a blinding fog, but they didn’t need to see.
hands full of lust opened,
and passion sprinkled onto the bed
idolatry.
rhythmically.
emphatically.
thoroughly.
love danced into the skin of their entire bodies,
and they glimmered perfectly in the light
for one beautiful, fascinating moment...

momentum

Ah, but even in throws of heated lust,
careful my love, do not dare to overlook.
With every addiction,
lust and sex,
there are always unpleasant side effects.
Drawn in by my beautiful bold printed lies,
your soul is abducted by my fine printed lines...

sick with the spin

stuck in a revolving door.
cemented in life's fucking time warp.
standing still while the whole world rushes right past you.

no end.

like a carousel with no music.
you're sick with the spin.
flawed and tired of your life of sin.

It's always the lie that breaks shit apart,
leaves them remaining confused with no way out.
standing still while the whole world rushes right past you.

no end...

The reflection.

Learning to become the mirror


and not the reflection


in a glass encrusted world


is the greatest achievement

of a survivor. 

The cycle.

Maybe we’ll meet again one day,
when we’re slightly older and our minds less hectic,
and I’ll be right for you and you’ll be right for me.
But right now you are chaos to my thoughts, and I am poison to your heart.

changes.

reach into my heart.
there’s a letter there, waiting for you,
with all of my fears and hopes and dreams written on it.
it’s fragile and hard to get to
and sometimes i lie awake trying to change the words of it,
but please, find that part of me. the part nobody else gets to see.

Echoes

I heard it on the radio,

they found echoes of the Big Bang

racing throughout the Universe,

and I wonder if they mistook

that sound for my heartbeat

moments after you gave me life again.

existence

You once asked me the name
of my favorite poet
and I replied "God".
You laughed and played along
and asked me which one of his
works was my favorite.
I said it was the one where
he wrote you into my existence...

The box.

I have absolutely

no desire to fit in.

The ability to subtract

yourself from the crowd,

is hindered by our need

to be an addition...

Be different.

Live outside the box.

Past tense.

I wonder what places I have already visited for the last time...

The effect.

Your third grade science teacher taught you that thunder comes after lightning
because sound travels slower than light.
 What she meant was, nothing makes sense while it is happening,
yet everything happens at once.

The monster

I fell into a void, and was saved by kind monsters
who taught me how to express myself in the most awkwardly manner.

If I don't seem like myself to you anymore, it's because you never knew me...

Absorption

Have you ever stood in a crowded room and absorbed the essence of every single person in that room? Their hopes.. fears.. pain.. dreams? Even their memories.

Some are in love, some are filled with lust, and others never cease reflecting on the moment they must return home to that empty apartment to lay upon a mattress soaked with blood and tears.

Do you ever feel people the way I do? 

Doesn’t it just make you want to bleed internally?

Doesn’t it makes you feel utterly useless?

The mind.

What a thing it is
 to fall in love


first 
with someone’s mind,

and to let them, in turn,


explore
 your own.

I am firmly convinced

that the most 
vulnerable


part of ourselves,

is not
 our unclothed bodies,


but rather, most definitely

our 
thought....

prospect

your touch feels foreign

like a strange custom

from another country,

another handshake,

another way to say hello,

it is new,

it is not the way

I have ever been greeted,

it is a language

I am learning

to speak.

2/2

I am either aggressively passionate or completely detached. I have no notion of loving people by halves. It's not my nature...

Hustler

I give a fuck.

I give lots of fucks, actually.

I'm a prostitute of feelings. 

Accountability.

I am one who can only hold you accountable for your actions,
no matter how good your intentions may be.

Interference

If it's still on your mind,

It's still in your heart. 

the journey

I walk through doors with no hesitation. 
The fear on the other side, does not exist. 
I'm the type to fight gods to earn my placement.

Silence.

The world is often too loud for anyone's mind to function properly without disturbance. Quiet that.

Dimensional

Someone once told me that human beings have three dimensions: how you see yourself, how others see you, and how you want others to see you. The closer the distance between the three dimensions, the more at peace you are and the more stable you become.

Dreamer

It was a huge disappointment as a child
to fall in love with the stars
and then find out how much math it requires
to get anywhere near them.

meritable

Because I’ve never wanted to drown baby,


but being lost in your sea,
doesn’t sound like a bad way to go...

 

Charged

"Life" in and of itself ultimately is meaningless. It's whatever meaning you give it, your experiences, and your memories that define your "life."

divulgence

My favorite sound will always be

the whisper of, “Oh my God”

under his breath in between kisses...

incubus

drift off to sleep

and enter a land of wonder

where skeletons walk around

without clothes


exposing their bones

and showcasing how hollow

they’ve all become.

trees are really people

who rip out their hair

when it gets cold


and birds whisper secrets

in uneasy ears.


the moon projects light,

iridescent to set the mood,


and what once was,

becomes no more.


kaleidoscopes of butterflies

lead the way,
 down, down, down

winding roads
 and into the open fields

where innocence is reborn.


you swirl around and around


faster and faster until

all you see are the

smears of color 
painted

on a midnight blue star speckled canvas


and when you wake up...

everything is not how it seemed before.

elemental transmission

It takes 10 minutes and twelve seconds to walk to your home from mine every day. Your sister never fails to smile at me when she opens the door. I never fail to notice that it doesn’t reach her eyes anymore.

You leave your door open an exact two point three centimeters. I don’t think you do it on purpose. There is something wrong with the wood that has left it that way. I pause one foot outside the door and listen to you cough, trying to determine how sick you feel today. I hate that every time I think you are particularly ill, I am always right.

Six months, seventeen days and fourteen hours. That is how long its been since the doctors told you, you had an illness. I sat there, listening to a man dressed in white, saying words like ‘terminal’ and ‘leukemia’, and counted the number of times he said ‘patient’ as if it were your name (Seventeen).

The blood bank says one unit is four hundred and eighty milliliters, and I watch as they put the needle into my arm to pump out the blood into a little plastic bag. It takes exactly seven minutes and twenty one seconds, because I’m holding my arm so tight. If I could give you all my blood so you could feel better for just a day, I would.

It has been nine days, twelve hours and fourteen minutes since the ambulance came for you. Six days, fifteen hours and seven minutes since the doctors told us they couldn’t help you anymore. I am counting the drips of the glucose as it goes into your arm, my body wrapped around yours, trying to pretend this is a bad dream. 

You say, that I am obsessed with numbers. I want to tell you you’re wrong. My obsession is you. I say nothing. This is the first time you have laughed in one month, three weeks and two days.

*They say, that when someone dies, their body weight drops. It is not noticeable unless you have held them close while they are dying. It is just a touch. But it’s there when they leave you.

21 grams. That is the weight of a human soul.

Exploration.

I'm going out to explore this world. 

I'm going to write down all the lessons it can offer.

I saved you a seat just in case you want to play co-pilot.

fenestrated

If there is any truth

behind what they say


about seeing a soul

through a person’s eyes,


then darling,

you have the most beautiful

soul I have ever had the pleasure

of encountering...

Modification

I’m a strong person.


I’m still alive and breathing,

that pretty much says it all.

But there must be something beyond this.

I bite down my excuses


and paint over my flaws
.

I speak the words that


threaten to drown me.

My hand will scribble

them on paper


or click these keys


and that’s the real release.


I stare into every shadow I can find,


I even seek them out,


because I want to raise

the whole damn thought

process
 and start again.

Yet, we don’t have the luxury

of a blank canvas mind
.

There's no such thing

as a clean slate.

So we do what we can.


We rebuild,
 reprogram,

and paint over our imperfections.

A mind can be reprogrammed,

I've already changed so much of the code. 

Change the thought process,

and rebuild your mind....