been a while

So I woke up tired and spent that evening thinking all night.
Some sacrifices to be made to distance yourself from ‘reality’.
Could I be two people? One with his presence; content.
And one without; inspired.

A day without you is not like a day without sunshine.
It’s a wakeup call. Or is it I slip deeper into myself?
My imagination plays with my dreams plays with the world.
It’s all a game, a ball being hit around. No one knows.

I want the feel without the hurt.
I want the love without the effort.

All those love is, love is, love is.
Love is what you make it.
Or what it’s making you.

Well, Fuck.

That stricken boat on the glass sea,
With windows tinted unevenly
As to keep an eye on the suns at dusk
When hands were frozen, mouths fell to dust.

It never gets far, nothing these drinks can’t unwind,
Lips will be loose and your conscience won’t mind.
Unpurposeful slip of the tongue past midnight.
Healing the barrier between disgust and fright.

It wasn’t meant to be taken away from you,
The waves weren’t crashing but the wind blew and blew,
Watching the sun lose its grasp on the deepening sky
Watching the communications cease between you and I.

Remorse of Day [Haiku]

Atmosphere of gold,
the sunset is a cover
hiding guilty blue.

Outside the Inside

I met a boy who did as he pleased:
Saw a forest ahead and fell to his knees,
Oh soft ground bring comfort away from these lees
In swift scattered pleasures, so fell the trees.

He crawled through the saw dust back to the dirt,
A broken rib crying, refusing to hurt,
Bled him a lullaby straight though his shirt
And on to the ground where death does its work.

Layers of gravel, minerals and dust,
Dark and damaged, the worlds hidden crust
An insect seen in hope, disposing of trust,
Below and forgotten clawing what it must...

Scratching the sands far from a pearl,
Slipping on ice as the heat starts to swirl.
Air burns and creates an omnipotent girl,
Boy: sitting terrified, center of the world.

On The Line

Solace disappeared on a cold kitchen floor
Night throwing colours never seen before.
Objects of regret hanging damp clothes line.
The owl watching us wake in good time
With some apologies arriving from early to late,
Playing witness to what bones could not shake.

Time is immeasurable and heat will fade
Determined through memories of a tar lung facade,
Forgive the fool that was labeled insane,
Let him follow patterns left by the rain.
I heard you're not ready to leave town just yet.
Maybe tomorrow when the sun spits out regret.