I'm not in love
with your words

I'm in love with
the way you think

not just
delighted,
entertained,
endlessly curious,
sufficiently bewildered
and longing to climb inside
the gears tick-tocking your mind

but that your brain takes me
into a state of utter awe
blissing me still

it's looking into
this distorted hologram
mirror where I'm seeing
more of me, but from
different perspectives
than the usual 2D
similar to me, yet,
inversely intriguing

it's live and undulate
reflective truth serum
rooting me in now

that's why I slid
right down your throat -
I speak your language
and apparently intuitively
know how to crack you
allkindsa open

(even if it takes a
white-hot light year
and unprecedented doses)

it's like with you
I'm the me-est me
I can be
it's so

magically delicious
I don't try to escape
inside me anywhere

you make me want to
be more here
with you

on the outside

share all the parts
I learned it best to hide
on the in

though I know
it's a wee bit ******,
if these treatises become
merely the sheer prologue
to The Most Unbelievable Tale
of Mystical Love Perhaps Ever Spun

the fact that
seeing you is
seeing me
means

loving you is
loving me too

this could be
- so -
healthy

like shots of
marine phytoplankton
chased with green smoothie

and my ponderings
keep meandering
around this one thing:

what happens when
it gets to the point where
your pictures painted of me
completely override
my false stories

- forevermore -

when I eat
so much of the mirror
I become - fully -
the me I see
through your
Windexed eyes

I daresay
that’s levitating off
the porch of full potential
outside our diamond-cut pyramid
with the gold-engraved signage
hanging in front of our
intergalactic portal

where one
might have
once

looked for a door

that now seems
completely archaic
and unnecessary

words fell
    like broken
        glass
                from
your lips
                onto
bloodstained
                       carpet
lacerations
              searing your
bruised heart,
      transplanting
              its jagged rips
into mine
  beats sharply feathered
like injured
                wings,
angel eyes
   pigmented my color,
    blinded by a
cool sheen
hiding behind
                 tears
You are but a child,
young fresh entity
yet know the weight
of heavy
    and suddenly
nothing else
       matters
only your light
in my world,
however
         dark you get
nothing material
can fix it and I will
stop it all
to press
the button
          of time
and give
you
the
       world

I can't be
someone I'm not
But atleast the someone
I am,
Won't be soon
Forgot....

wraith of white
you wander wild
the hinterland
Valkyrie's child

your breath pants mist
in icy caves
you have made
10, 000 graves

your image is
in winter skies
its crystal glitters
in your eyes

loping through
the cold chill wood
its secrets you
have understood

born to lead
long of fang
through the glaciers
your voice rang

lonely in your Lycan heart
you made the ****
your kindest art

wolf of legend
wolf of lore
you'll reign untamed

forevermore


soulsurvivor
(C) 2/16/2014
Rewritten 6/12/2015

I don't think most people understand depression
                                                    ­                         suicide
                                                         ­                           PTSD
or the cycles that they come in as if they were tides.

People don't see past the smiles and laughter to the darkness within;
That you could be surrounded by love and feel okay
                                                            ­                            yet still be dead

That no matter how much comfort or peace you have it still gnaws away in the beck of your mind and chews a hole in your heart.

Cut wrists and suicide attempts aren't a cry for attention but for help;
does anybody out there hear me? see me? feel the way I feel? does anybody get that I am on the edge and losing it? why does nobody listen? why don't they take me serious? am I worth anything?

It disgusts me we execute the wounded and condemn their suffering;
Maybe they shouldn't feel the way they feel, but it's how they feel, so quit trying to tell them to stop feeling that way!
QUIT TRYING TO FIX THEM

Just be there... they need to know they aren't alone.