I'm convinced love is a series of fleeting events brushing up against your cheek

Is it possible to take it all back ?
To be without beginning ?
To bloom without a seed ?

We see them,
passerby with
courteous smiles.
They're trying to be nice,
to make a friend,
be an ally.
Is there any more to kindness ?

I wrote you a book but it burnt
from my memory,
you may have kept the manuscript
but I suggest you shred it,
let it go.

This feeling feels foreign
yet it's like a new nostalgia.
I'm in love with someone I don't want around,
someone I can't stand to see
but to see them would be relief.
Because every day
was joy with her,
and she destroyed what
I knew to be happiness,
like I didn't know what it
was to begin with:
the warmth of a sun ray
in a cold dark room,
a kind stranger
into the end of
a summer day.

She was a nursery

off the edge of dusk.

But like the night,

it all faded into

obscurity.

I stood at the fountain
  where they said there was
  a wish per finger.
                 Keep your thoughts and
                  hands together,
I'm not exactly a pretty boy,
      but there are miracle men
who always seem to make it right.
a blown candle on a special night,
I become totally affixed on who
I'll love next.
   I need more shotguns,
some form of defense;
     my mind was weak to your
affliction, my mind was lost to
time. I'll miss you by about a day,
but by then I'd have forgotten if I
ever loved anyone else.

"sounds like a member of the past;
nothing you can really change,
even if you tried."

the cat's beauty
was revered by kings
of lands far away-
but her majesty had passed
of old age.

they talked no more of her
as she was now gone
from this world.
still the mother's heart
wept on every day,
but the soldier kings
said it's best
not to dwell on it,
but that kitten would live
on within their mind..
taking up that silence
where there were once
purrs.

do you like me as an artist or as a friend?
was I a lover that called at the end of the night, or one that faded into the darkness?
am I preserving voice within your life or just a chiming ear across the bar?
a tongue spewing a string of meaningless profundity or am I a list drawn of striking profanity?
a professional handshake ?
or a charming smile ?
an awkward pause ?
do I swim in your mind like a diver ?
or do I pass like a wind ?

the people that cross paths
with me change,
for better or for worse-
I don't know.
I have an effect on people-
that's true.
it's hard to tell what
kind,
where exactly they diverge
alike to my path.
but I find myself in
each person that
cross that threshold,
but as they change,
I change too.
I change into something
I remember
from before;
something familiar,
but distant.