They just keep getting higher and higher
yet the merchandise stays the same

Why does my heart
always cost me
so much?

sometimes I wish I could draw back the shades
on my life and let in some sun

I can brush my feelings away
down, down, into the dust
But they'll always come back to play
and to create more rust.

Under the rug, that's where they go
but never do chance to stay,
because they know they've got more hold
if they take hold in my brain.

the memories in the back of my mind
rattle their cages restlessly
but I won't let them escape

My mind
Likes to deceive me

I find someone
truly someone

And they're shattered from me
by a gas smaller than I can see

Shattered into a reality
I've been avoiding my whole life

Dear young, hopeless Cherie
How shall I hope to survive?

I had you convinced.

And if you don't admit it,
You're kidding yourself.

Change yourself,
do what you like.
You'll always just be
the same old Mike.

Be what you will
your actions are past
no one can judge you
memories won't last

I know you think
they're too strong to forget
but I know you enough
to know you regret

Regret is a tool
used to make better a man
so don't tempt forgetfulness
You are you. So stand.

Note is wrapped around a small pink apple, the size of a fist*

I suppose
But what better honor is there
than to wait for the right time
and receive but more glory
in which to bathe your humble self
instead of crashing and burning,
being missed by all whose eyes
have had the pleasure of
meeting yours.

My irises,
for one,
would love
nothing more
than to witness
the fire within the
saddened eyes of
the friend I have made
easily, almost too easily.

Niklas.
It rolls off my tongue better than my
own name, it sounds of bells within
my dimwitted mind. If you could hear,
I would sing it over and over again to
be borne by the fingers of the wind
goddesses for your ears and yours alone
to relish, to give you rest from your
current toil.

How helpless am I, Little Cherie.

Nor does anyone, at this point, know who he or she is.

We all compare ourselves to an ideal image of ourselves
kept captive against our irises
by our eyelids

This is why
I'm stuck
in a broiling ocean
of self-discovery

No different from the experiences of others, all flailing and trying to stay afloat around me,
but just as tragic.
We do not pity one another.

We fight harder to earn the freedom that will allow us
to help others out of the water
when we in turn are strong enough

I'll hold back my longing to quote Shakespeare's sagacity here
and instead apologize,
though I know not what for.

The world is indeed cold and unforgiving.

It is how we forge our way through hoping for the best
that makes us
who we are.

Give your wings some room.
I know you feel like you can't anymore
But you're going to soar.

Tough at first,
and you've fallen before
But you're going to soar.

Life has brought its' challenges,
And you think you've had about enough
You want to keep believing
But the winds are getting rough
Whatever happened to the the little boy whose aspirations flew high?
Or is he just another angelic memory in an empty nighttime sky?

Can't touch the stars, all you see is clouds
One by one, we'll take them down,
down, down, down
Come a little closer, and I'll hold your shaking hands
I won't let you drown,
drown, drown, drown

You're stronger than a river
your wings stretch forever
so we can soar

Let's do this.
Together.

If I asked politely,
or poetically, God forbid,
Would you write with me?

Write me a reply
in your own poetic guise

Correspondence within pentameter
means more than anyone will ever realize
even if it's faux

Here, in my garden of shadows
Here, where the black blossoms grow
Tonight, deep waters will overflow
Here, no man dares to go...

Here, the nights are but lonely
Here, it's not safe to abide
Nowhere to run or to scream or to hide
Beware the Blackening Tide.

Come, my child, come closer
See what the lone river holds
Tales of sadness, of love young and old,
Come, dear, embrace the cold...

No, dear moonbeam, don't fear
Though it is cold as stone
You wouldn't leave me here standing alone...?
Stay here, this is your new home.

Stay with the misty deep river,
Stay with soft voices unheard
Calling to us, they outshine the bird
Of lives that were lost and all blurred.

So here, in our garden of shadows,
It shall be just you and I
You will care for the blossoms and stay by my side
Till you're carried away by the tide...

Beware the Blackening Tide...

We're all nobodies, the lot of us,
trying to hold on, to brush off all the rust.
Silent screams, empty stares
Losing hope in all we've tried to trust.

We are invisible
Broken skin and broken hearts
hoping someday someone sees us
Nobodies
Nothing to share and nothing to prove
everything to shoot and nothing to lose
All alone with our thoughts and our knives,
will no one become someone?
It's taking over our lives.

We're all no ones, the lot of us,
living in a world we can't control.
Holding in, holding back
Hearts broken, battered, beaten, black as coal.

Maybe if we united
Our burdens could one day be light
but this inferno has never ignited
and we don't feel strong enough to fight

We are invisible
Broken skin and broken hearts
hoping someday someone sees us
Nobodies
Nothing to share and nothing to prove
everything to shoot and nothing to lose
All alone with our thoughts and our knives,
will no one become someone?
It's taking over our lives.

We're all nobodies, no ones, the lot of us.

Who are you?

Brush away the tears
Cover up the scars
Can you feel your limit to this pain inching closer across your wrists?

I understand
Who you are and what you are just can't
be hidden anymore

It may seem
Like your angels and demons won't come clean
and keep on plaguing you

I've been there, done that
I don't pity the blood covering your wrists
you hold the key
not within your heart
but within your soul, the cracked thing that is wisping out of your body faster than steam from a warm cup of coffee on a winter morning

I don't really have much to say today
to the ones who felt what I have
and those who still do
except that it's your own job to heal yourself

others have the potential to help contribute to your happiness
but you are ultimately the only one who can create it

Don't let your head be filled with doubt
I really didn't feel like rhyming....
but hear me out.

All your best relief efforts will, to your surprise, save me.

But you seem to think at excommunicating me will help.

Did abandoning the Titanic as it sunk beneath the glassy, ice ridden waves save many lives?

Does leaving a lonely girl alone help her overcome her constant state of isolation?

I'm not asking for a life raft, a canoe, or a power boat.

All I'm asking for is your hand.

If you were ever to worry that no one would be there,
I would.

And even if you didn't, you've said it yourself, I'm pushy.
I'll be there whether you invite me or not.

But what always bothered me is that everything just always seemed different in our friendship.

Why is it different when we are together? Why do the regular old motions invoke different emotions?

One day, I'll take off this makeup.

But until then, it's up to you to see through it.

Within the confines of the
flesh pulsating
dotted with fragments of lace
and ripped, smoldering
remains of valentines
from years ago

What is it that I can do to impress you?

How much higher than gold do I need to strive for in order to earn your praise? How much higher of a mountain, how much higher of a grade?

What is there that I can improve upon that will entitle me to at least a  scant amount of your love?

Let the flowers crown your crown
with life, leeway, and lust

Let the blossoms crowd your crowd
in your mind, marked and mine

Let the starlight head your head
from dye, disaster, and divinity

Let the acetone guard your heart
because when it comes to breaking patterns
rhymes
and constancy
you seem to be
holy

Everyone thinks
I've gone
bitter

I haven't

what is it that I'm missing?

I guess I should just make it completely clear
I'm not expecting much

I'm just like that at this point
give me physicality
and I'll be fine

Not that I'm using you, I'm down for the romance
I'm just sick
of being tired

An ode to not being alone
to having someone there
to tell your deepest darkest
thoughts that emanate from
the innermost abyss of your
soul sainted being.

They can reach their fingers
like filtering lights through
the crevices of what's left
of the scattered rubble that
used to live in my mind
and be able to understand
who I am and what I am.

Thanks to them, I'm not
alone, nor will I ever be
simply because I know
that as long as they have
eyes and as long as they
can read, I'll always
be heard, always

I don't think I've ever longed to taste something
-someone-

or feel the brush of a light feathery touch
across my skin

more than now
...her...

There are feelings I know my genes
have erased from the nerves
within myself

that I know may never awaken again...

...but then there's you.

The shattered glass that surrounds my eyes
helps me to see clearer

who knew tears
were the best prescription

Perhaps it's a little
Rushed, a little
Harried, a little
Early

To love someone.

Perhaps.

I can't force you to sit and listen to me rant
But I can request
That you simply
Stay

Presence
Is everything

Just because we felt happiness
And you saw little tears
Doesn't mean that our time
Wasn't all just broken years

You saw the good, you optimist
You never asked what I fear
So you can't blame me for being ******
All of those long broken years

I'm sorry, no I'm not sorry*

I'll never ever apologize
For loving you
As much as I did
Even though I don't anymore

Who can bedrudge
My having
Human feelings?

No one.

When you're sad they never text first
But not surprised

I'm not saying I can make you happy.

But I can try.

The life he had lost to which he paid great heed
Never rewarded him for nary a deed.
Yet recompense was not so easily found
Once his body was safe in the ground.

His mother had died and his sister, ruined
Hi father had left, his brother knew it
Knew he was going, and fast, he was
His beloved brother would soon sleep in the mud.

Yet life is not life when it facades as art
And stolen good surmise more than of just hearts
His lover had left him with no single weep
And left him to lay in his awkward still sleep.

So death did them part, but not them prevail
Life had been gone before his last final wail
The dead in his eyes had shone many years
And only did dull when confronted by fears.

Heed my words, you shepherds, you sheep
Take not the time to make tears for to weep
For we are all dead, or soon as will be
Inside, at least, where no one else may see.

Why can't I find the words
To fight for what
I want

Or even say it right?

Because it isn't a "what".

It's a "who".

I guess I'm just awkward.
They're always taken, aren't they?
Taken or uninterested.

And I always end up hurt even if it's not their intention.
Why?

I'm just too much
For anyone to love.

And that's only because
I'm so ready to love someone
So ready
But every time I find
Him or her
Each time I think
That I've found
THE one

They're taken.
Taken or uninterested.

Standing upon a lone cliff
holding his sword high for his damsel in distress

A hand reaches from behind him
and plunges it deep within the recesses of his chest

She wipes the blood off her gown
and pleads for help from the next passing knight

He is still healing from the last damsel
and no longer wants to fight her own fight

So they agree that the swordplay will cease
and their love will be bland, tired, and tried

And the two of them are happy-not really-
But that's how relationships worked after chivalry had died.

Contract;

In order for this business relationship to be beneficial to both parties, here is what to expect, and what I'll expect in return.

I expect you to give me attention, especially when I plead that I don't need it. I expect sweet messages sent at random that don't hold any relevancy to what we're experiencing. I expect truth, loyalty, and respect. I expect your time.

In return, you can expect being loved until you wish you had never met me in the first place, being attentively looked after but not to the point of clinginess. You'll be privy to poems, songs, and ideas penned about you frequently, and you'll never be alone. Your heart will be mine to guard and to keep not as my own but as ours. And know this; I will never leave.

Terms for this agreement are thus; time will be made for the other party. I will not have to experience a breakup over the phone because you won't make time to see me after six months of what I thought was love. We won't have to make excuses about how we're still hanging in there; if things don't work, they don't work.

And finally, we must agree to be mutually exclusive.

Under these conditions- which are for the most part immobile but are open to suggestion- and these conditions only will this business agreement be not only agreed upon but maintained. Any breach of this contract will result in...well.

Term to end: hopefully, never.

Just sign the dotted line, here.

____________X

I'd be eternally grateful
if for just a second,
we could forget the distance.

Forget the timing,
the awkwardness.

Let's forget the oddity
and let's just be.

To need
what you don't
necessarily
want.

I need you.

If I'm the demon you say I am,
What does that make you?

You can wipe the makeup off your overdrawn cheekbones, Barbie
But you're still plastic.
And you're still hollow.

Just because I cave like a chameleon under pressure
Doesn't mean I don't have true colors buried
Underneath this plastic

Gone are the days
When life was a ride
And I just grinned
From the passengers side

Gone are the nights
When life was a dream
And I could follow
Someone else's scheme

Here are the weeks
When life is full force
And I have to push
Like battle worn horse

Here are the years
When life becomes death
And I gasp my last
Living my final breath

To see a heart as it really is-
A pumping mesh of blood and tissue-
And know that love,
The truest kind,
Is disconnected.