if, darling, you were mine- love would remain a feeling of youth

and if i should say love,

you are mine

 

[gladly] the shadows

would wither beneath the fields

resting death and all her calloused

tears

 

and then darling.

if you were mine,

love would remain a feeling

felt only in the sound of youth

//

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enough. says enough,

enough. says enough,

my hands are too small

to hold your bruises anymore

 

brush the dark blue ink

across the wind of yesterdays sighs

so when oak trunks dance drunkly,

they cannot step into tomorrow’s joy

 

let them, if they howl across the rigid dark blue

knowing misery refuses to stand alone

i mastered the science of making all the worst decisions

i have mastered the science of making all the worst decisions and continuously watched everything invaluable dart beneath the nearest exit sign. but, if i thought of these decisions as regrets, i’d be incinerating everything of worth. so in my dumpster, buried within every worst decision, rests the rarest and most compelling treasure; the freedom to evolve and prosper.

 

[discovering peace in letting go]

basking in the truth of roses

concentrating on the sidewalks rushing beneath my feet

i watched as the static doused my reality with turpentine

-as if the clouds suddenly burst into fragrant fumes of loss

stinging each desperate breath, i swallowed hard,

hoping that the bitterness would devour any pain

releasing all regrets of what could have been

 

anchoring myself to the depths of the forgotten abyss

ceasing all chance at happiness and hopes of ahead

 

i found the roses carved between the cracks

[oh how the crimson branded tired grey eyes]

standing in between the sidewalks

i sunk into the sea of the hardest truths

tugging for the pavement – seemingly too tall to grasp

 

i melted within the waves of the crimson sea

and each soured drop of truth blanketed my simple soul,

diverting the sidewalk into freedom

 

i cannot laugh, for clocks have not yet faded

nor can i bathe in the unknown,

in fear of unmarked pages wearing thin;

instead i ponder crimson roses

finding beauty in their thorns

 

basking in the truth of roses

 

“It is far better to grasp the universe as it really is than to persist in delusion, however satisfying and reassuring.” – Dr. Carl Sagan

even in the silence of the wilderness; thrive

unrely on ignorant accusations,

for only they color poisonous thoughts with blissful fantasies and grand delusions

[stroked with delicate precision of ink tainted with heartaches blood]

marked unfit for those thriving nakedly under the truthful sun

 

and

deception, which can feed never on the freedom,

of those sincere in seeking all which cannot fade,

will touch you if you let it

 

 

even in the silence of the wilderness; thrive

fight, i wish there was

i always thought happiness was unreachable, so deep into the cosmos i would never be able to catch a glimpse of it, but through circumstances that appeared to lead to but one outcome – heartache – i have instead found the unthinkable; happiness.

if you do not believe in happiness, how could I ever bring you joy

if you cannot bear the thought of loving yourself, how could you expect to find the love for loving me

if you will not sacrifice your lonely heart, why then, should i place mine within your hands

if you are unwilling to fight the good fight, I’m sorry love, you’ll never win

[how can a lonely boy ever expect to please a willing woman]

healing, is my heart, for part of it is with you.

although i could convince myself that backwards is somewhere i’d never go, one kiss could bring me to my knees.