She left in June
Flew
As expected
But she was in my arms
Moments
Only thing I could count on
Because in her nature
As is nature
How could I expect
Even want
Something, someone
Her
To stay
Caged in kisses
Locked in embraces
Chained in the affections
Shackled by the addictions
Of one boy
Mascarading as a man

She was her own creature
A lioness in rabbit’s cloth
No ******* around
Light on her feet
Freely does she run
But she never runs away
She just leaves
As expected
Brightest day turn darkest light
And I
I choose to remember the stars
For even though she leaves
Arms empty, hearts gaping
Eyes wanting, hands shaking
Knees weak, minds struck
She leaves
Moments
Embodied in stars
And I count on each one
As I count each one
As I account each one
And each one
Stays

I went from a lover to a liar in a heartbeat;
the flip of a switch as soon as I heard I could get what I'd been craving.

The jolt of electricity through your bloodstream, the feeling of being alive with your senses on fire, the ability to seem untouchable: superhero like even...

Almost nothing compares in that moment, but in the afterglow, when your cape begins to lose its wind and your heart starts to slow, nothing feels worse than pondering it's destined finale.

Discovering your conscience, all the while knowing that no matter how much you love someone, the poison always comes first.

It's a terrible reality, the ability to choose.

And I always choose wrong, down the path of the chemical adventure, knowing that at the end, I always inevitably fall off the cliff.

But it's an obsession: being on top of the world, and no matter how much time passes, or how far I think I've come, she always wins.

It's the slow onset, the clarity, the peaks where everything seems far better than it actually is, but now the dream is over.

I need to let it go or it will consume me; living in a false reality, locked in to my need for perfection.

She used to calm me and make me godlike, but now I've fallen from my pedestal and upon looking up, I see she turns me into the monster I've never wanted to be...

Hiding, in shame, from the soul I love the most. I wish I could tell her, divulge all of my secrets, but the fear of the disappointment on her face is too much for me to bare.

Because I know she could help me,
if I would just tell her the truth.

I have seen something,
and I just needed you to show me.
I knew it, but ah, like everything this week,
I got swept by it.
Throw away your tarot cards and reject your horoscope,
put out your organized spells and put out your crystal ball
for poetry is the only magic at all

Poetry is the only spell I really know
Can bind or can let go.
How many tears saved, how many things known
just because of well put sentences and words!
It shows the scaffolding of world.
Exposing, watching ****** of the heart
Poetry gives me levels of peace and levels of me
Oh those poor ones who can't see
My night vision - both a curse and a gift
My metal legs - the corolary natural of it

So, stop looking for magic in things
and looking for guides where there is nothing.
Magic lives in your every day scenes
if you are clever enough to see
Poetry is magic, the only I really know
With power enough to bring me gold
from the depths of my soul

So look a little deeper next time
and acknowledge
magic is as close as your hand