I wonder when this pain will end
All my life I hung onto those who hurt me most
I could never see the light without them by my side
A temporary fix
To not feel the lonely ache
Now it's time to face the truth
To sit in my filth and stew
I held you close, so close, so dear
For I was filled with fear
Self loathing, self scrutiny
You are gone but you were never worthy
You stole my heart and left me lonely
You laid with other while I loved you so
For you are like me
You tried to fill your void
While gaping mine wide open
Now I'm numb and cold
Too tired to finish what I wrote

There's nothing like running
your fingers through wheat
as you take a footpath
through the farmer's field
especially in the dead of night
when the silence speaks volumes

Though I wouldn't know
'*** I'm a city boy
I always say
a life better lived on
the road less travelled
clearly wasn't for me

Cloudy days and
cloudy apple cider
go hand in hand
with hand rolled cigarettes
and unread messages
and a qwerty keyboard

Things are gon' get better
things better get gone
have I neglected my writing
or has my writing neglected me

Thoughts are just electricity
surging through your brain
tiny little electrical impulses
molecules and whooshy stuff
I could do with some of that

She is trapped inside her MIND,
But people think, she is BLIND,

She looks CRAZY,
But might be your eyes are little HAZY,

She never loved to LIE,
But this world's perceptions, WHY?

She looks to SKY,
But she never get any trusted Star to say"HI"!

She loves those eyes, which speaks the MOST,
But she never believed those words which make her ROAST,

Her Soul is only this body's HOST,
Now it's feels like the Soul is FROST.

You are like a
cool gentle breeze in the trees
whistling your sweet tune
and dancing your fingers through
my hair
like a silver stream of moonlight
on patches of silky worn grass
my feet run across
to get to your outreached
arms of pale morning sunlight
that make the sky
blush into cool shades
of rose, jade, lilac,
and peach
your laugh gushes
like a waterfall blue and white
spraying across
the rocks and evergreen I come
to perch on
when all inspiration for ideas
have dried into
strips of sour plums
and I am left feeling
a crazed thirst for the energy drained away
you are as light as a Cloud
white, often times stained
sunset pink and orange
so filling yet so translucent
in that my ideas
pass right through you
and become forever lost
like airplanes with blinking lights
and no destinations
flying across your endless horizon
of thoughtful evening stars
every time I close my eyes
and breathe
you are there fluttering underneath
my eyelids
smoothing my creased forehead
pulling my mouth up into an
upturned crescent moon
placing your palms
against mine
just to let me know
you are there
though only a fragment of
my imagination
you are simply
the stillness in every moment
encapturing a person's presence
to be carried in
the winds of change
yet brought back time and again
when hope has stilled
and home seems like a desert
that you bring
rain to.

Perhaps there is some great unknown beyond what our simple eyes can reach for in the corners of clouds.
Perhaps when I look up at the sky I do not see blue, I see an expanse of quilted blanket painstakingly crafted by a woman of impossible beauty.
Perhaps we are all coats worn daily until our pockets don't hold loose change and our sleeves are tattered, and we are hung up for the last time.
Perhaps there is more to life than what is experienced in life and as the last breath of air flows lazily from our lungs the world pans out and it is so very small and delicate but special.
Perhaps we are here because we are so very insignificant and that is beautiful.
Perhaps the lake freezes over but life continues beneath the surface, thrives even.
Perhaps the moment of death, after the final breath, is a moment of understanding that could never be obtained in life because you finally understand that we are all just small beautiful people and nothing can change that, but the idea that we are so small is so very big because we think everything matters so very much but what we really need to understand is that a life is a letter in a never-ending fantasy series about how one little imperfection spawned a beautiful mess of hydrogen and oxygen and nitrogen and molecules and compounds that formed and bonded and created cells that created life.
Perhaps I am a rambling madman that knows nothing of the significance or insignificance of life.
Perhaps I have unheard insight into what may or may not be.
Perhaps we need to live and love and die as a people and not as a person.
Perhaps we need to feel every death as if it were our own.
Perhaps each one of us is united through sheer existence.
Perhaps.

The Red Herring travels a divergent path,
alone in presence,
master of mind.
The Red Herring comprehends what he hath,
bearing little thought,
to the wake behind.

The Herring passes content with isolation,
alone in essence,
possessor of mind.
The Herring cares not but for his destination,
bearing some thought,
to the wake behind.

A herring finds his final place,
alone in absence,
chaser of mind.
A herring now knows his destination was never a space,
bearing absolute thought,
to the wake behind.

I read a book so long ago
During a certain phase
From when I was just a little girl
Awaiting my coming-of-age
But I remember the prominence of a line
When a character birthed a girl
She hoped she would stay ignorant
And avoid the truth of this world

I enjoy the way your hair
is always kind of everywhere
and the way your mind is like that too
as if everywhere is nowhere for you
the way you explain so nicely
just what you have to say, precisely
while your smile, beaming like an eclipse
hides conversations behind your lips
so thoughtful, so understanding
with a presence simply demanding
that I smile around you
and so, I do.

--

I miss the way your hair
was always kind of everywhere
and the way your mind was like that too
as if everywhere was nowhere to you
I miss the way you'd explain so nicely
just what you had to say, precisely
while your frown, the moon in an eclipse
kept conversation far beneath your lips
you were thoughtful and understanding
with a presence simply demanding
that I be there for you
but I wasn't.