Blur the lines until they are bokeh
As color bleeds from your eyes,
But don’t ever wonder why…

The world looks so pallid—
When saturation has drained to nil,
And everything bright has chilled.
Into the blue-black mortification of night
Like a stage light setting a scene
Who is gonna chase you, my queen?
If you scream will it be my name—
As you beg for my blade to the hilt.

Well I got you.

We twist like tethers of the same vine
Filling in our cracks, stitched —
I hope you feel my heart beat chase your breath
Syncopated rhythms, early morning melodies
From avian angels, perched upon the wires.
Bring me back to you like color,
So you can open your eyes and see…

A world so vibrant
Saturated like a prism
As the warm sun beats down its healing
I want to chase you down
Like a shot when I’m down,
Let me feel you course through me
Until I’m numb and dizzied,
You can be my Nancy
We can meet on Elm street
Forever your nightmare
Clawing at your surface
Wanna go deeper…

Need to feel you at the core
Grow something from the middle
Branch out into a new leaf,
Turn the pages of our story book,
Hope you feel the same energy
Because I’m coming to you with everything.

Can we blur the lines like they’re  bokeh?

…Barely      Breath.                    Lungs
             A                 Left     These.       God
                                         In                         Pl-
                                                             ­          Ea-
                                                             ­             Se  help me, I am too young to go_____

I envisioned her being erased
as I slipped under
this frozen lake
that will cleanse me of
our brokenness
by turning my bones into icicles,
clarifying the sum
of how I became
shrouded in midnight blues
and the bluntness
shakes my last gulp loose
until the earth is still,
leaving me a cliché
as I glisten with the moon

My thoughts flicker into a dream
where we finally understood
without being mean,
where our love had
no consequence
and we did things for each other
not only because we should,
until a nightmare arises
of living torn apart
in realization that I
never appreciated her
when she was in my arms

Now I'm sorting through decay
into a dimension of
fading memory
and things speed up
as my mind begins to race,
but was it ever my mind to behold?
Are we just visions projected
through those that personify us?

The concept of missing another
has left, where is here?
Her face dissolves,
and my last thought
conjured
is a question of why
there was no emphasis
on other people or resolve
before I got lost in self-destruction,
looking for the sound
of her laughter

What remains
is unending fear
as this aura travels
elsewhere
and a body absently
sinks
to the bottom of Moses Lake;
goodbye dear