Enraptured by your descent

Of consciousness and exhaustion

Beneath twilight's destruction

Into a renewed dawn's breath

Anticipation gleans my

Fixation upon your resting

Senses, leaving steadily

Our realm of shameless madness

Into another, far beyond

My grasp, my failing reach

Could that I join you there

Would we ever wake from sleep?

Now I await your sudden

Exhalation and brightened shift

Like a cloud burst with sun

Rupturing through the mist

For your mirth is my mirth

Repurposed and repossessed

And what haunts your health

Shares my shadow--kindred to death.

I put my trust in a love i thought would always be there. Even when I felt as if i didn't care oh how unaware I was in belief he had in me. The time we shared scared and alone I was in this sinking ship; I kept putting holes through bottled up wood word work and hadn't seen the pain and disbelief in his eyes as I grieved my pained carpet stains. Spilling only buckets of excuses to maintain the courage to smile, all the while broken pieces of my windows piled up beyond the help of a mop. Band-aids a friend to my fingers indeed but the bleeding never stopped the beating of my heart for you until i found a broom.

Rain, rain, 

I live 

in Spain,

and it's 

absolutely 

pouring

in the 

mountains 

again. 

I would 

have chosen 

to live on 

the plain 

but the 

nursery rhyme

warned 

me agin

;-)

I will always remember

the day you said:

I love you.

I was a fool

to believe you.

Now, I lay half conscious

on the kitchen floor

blood seeping from

the knife wound

which you forced

into my bare skin.

Memories of you and I

run through my mind

because after all:

I will always love you.

Maybe a part of me

thought I deserved the pain. 

Love;

A belief,

A truth,

A lie.

One word;

Many meanings:

Friendship,

Family,

Romance,

Tears,

Passion,

Pain.

Sometimes meaningless,

For true love is only real if returned,

And unrequited love will only hurt,

Burn you to colourless ashes,

So you forget there was ever beauty in your heart.

Yet love heals,

Love gives a reason to live,

Creates hope in a hopeless shell,

Gives life to ashes,

Binds together broken pieces,

So a work of art is made.

Love is weakness,

Love is strength,

A perfect paradox,

An eternal force,

A momentary sensation;

We fear and crave it,

A toxic drug,

Invisible and silent.

For in the end,

Love fades, 

Love dies,

We fall forever,

Arms never catch us,

The ground envelops every soul,

We're left infinitely and utterly alone...

There will always be an over in lover,

An end in friends,

Every family grows apart,

So is the high worth the fall...

Once a heart is broken:

it can never be mended,

or remain constant

with a steady rhythm.

Our hearts are fragile,

like thin glass shards

whose pieces are nearly:

invisible.

It is impossible to forget

the feeling of our hearts,

shattering and falling

as we fear to get close

to another heart

who will know:

the truth.

A pound of gold isnt as satisfying as a cup of water, 

The effort inside can be enthusiastic but the pains are traumatic. 

Forever and ever isn't the reciprocal of immortality, 

Neither familiarity with love can make it immortal. 

Longevity is a gift not a treasure, 

Death resistance is never pills for eternity. 

Moral doctrine is the only recipe for long life, 

Quest for Trinity creates a trivial deities. 

Immortality is a tale for Creators not creation. 

Open your ears if you eyes can't see the fear

Close your mouth if you can't talk the talk

Today I'll be who I'll be , standing tall nine feet past oak Treez

Think about what I give you and apply it too THE best of your ability

Stay strong, Hold on the ride has just begun,

Pay that ticket and take a ride with life

How do you show someone that what they hold true is a Mirage. Self-inflicted. An abstraction of Truth. A Ghost outlining Smoke. Because if they reach for their Mirage, it will evaporate: Smoke moves with the wind and it is uncontrollable. Therefore, how can one rely upon one's projection of such? When they themselves live and exist and identify within a delusion called "Self," how do you cut their layers of Smoke so as to expose the Truth? And when their pupils themselves are funhouse mirrors, an attempt to change their perception becomes a battle with a Ghost.

But it is imperative.