Reckless healer

I miss romantic love as much as I miss that blissful period when I loved only myself.
A brief time after forgiveness of things beyond my control leading up to the swooping vultures of this guy’s interesting to play with.
Or in thinking that my heart is genuinely filled and cutting it open like a pomegranate to drip seeds down hungry throats.
The pain a substitute for reciprocity
Until, woken I ask for clarification
And
In so doing
Find myself to have been alone
Or instead with pale spectre as companion
Try to shove a heart dripping juice
Never quite full again
Into a chest grown to small
Instead hold in hands
Hoping to find sharing
Or,
At last
For inflammation to cool
The swelling goes down
And fits back in chest
Or to lament that fact
Can’t make you want
More than this distance
To be admired
And loved from
Space removed
So much easier to go quiet
To fade
When I no longer see you
And the blade no longer sinks home with each smile aimed away

Tick, tick, tick

I have nothing to give but everything that I am. Unfortunately, it never seems to be enough. Is it something I lack or was there something in you that could not be fulfilled. Or am I waiting for you to say, “I’m ready now.” And, fool that I am, I wait while you seek joy in the heart of another. Or I wait until circumstances are better. Or I wait until you realize what you need and it isn’t me. Or I wait while time drifts you away.

Take a step to me. Don’t say but or maybe. Don’t wait, times is passing, regret is for the things that you fail to face not for love. I know. It’s painful to hope. I know. I’ll try not to fail you.

Flat rock floats the river


Every step is a step closer to the grave. Because what am I but a pointless gesture meandering through the simple silence of shadows cast.
Are goals so loose they may well be guidelines instead of definition be truly enough to get out of bed for?
Or am I just wasting for want of a leader.
No harness can I wear that is not fashioned by my hand.
I am horrible to lead as I question each choice and deed.
Take flight and burn in turn of phrase.
Always looking for the person who sees me through the smoke.
Obscured by my honest answers to the meat of the question.
Semantics but I like is not the same as love is not the same as desire is not the same as need.
We break and say what was I to say?
Don’t peddle love when other is meant.
I’ll settle counterweight against your love, a fulcrum to move the world.
Should it prove to be the brittle half truth of like, I’ll break in the turning.
See me, I’ll not settle.
I’m not settling when I choose your love.
But I’ll not take less than all that you are either.
What is worth if not worth all?
Selling pieces without regard or regardless.

I see.
But I’m as broken as any, perhaps more so, knowing yourself is no remedy.
Ignite, burn and be the pyre.
As I lay here fading, bereft of you.
Waiting on the turn of the wheel or a spoken word.

hearts blood brewed black 

Should I write of terrible emptiness or speak of a future so uncertain no pathway is clear?

Is the act of writing catharsis or catalyst?

Form sentences
in service to the sacred
or am I a blasphemy,
unworthy of your consideration?

Embrace emotion and be bruised by cold shoulders,
words spoken softly
become daggers when syllables drop dispassionately

Fake dreams,
distraction from a life fraught with dirt standard ennui

Or passionate pleading prayers
to an uncaring universe
that this time will be different

Burn it all in pleasures and pains
that only leave me emptied
or fill me up with poison
fermented on the vine

Drunk on sharp edges and missed schedules

Easier to say
it’s too hard and walk away
than to embrace misfortune and ill timing

No right time for love,
no perfect step, no lull in life

Just now, now is all we have
Plan a future
but start today
or watch all plans disappear
as flash paper memories

You can’t push me away hard enough
once I’ve decided to stay,
but you can walk away

This desolate desert of ablated could have beens
A wanderer
Alone
looking for water

Shallow rising of a setting sun

Give me a taste of these things that I waste
Burn me up
Beyond recognition
Can’t find ruptures
Once the skin’s broken in

Last rapturous voice
Calling me from the grave
But I can’t settle
You woke me up
But test my mettle
And found it wanting

I’m still forming
Sky metal warming
Beat me to shape
My purpose is warring

But those days are past
Never was official
Just a man with a business card
And his hand out

Waking up to a reality I can’t know
Finding life amid the wreckage
But pieces stick
They’re vestige

A woken dreamer
Last memories spill across the page

Turbulent heart

Your song seeps in, moving through my blood, wrapping itself around my heart.

This rhythm holds me to brighter smiles and upturned eyes, grace written in the moue of lips and tone made madness of love, though burning set fire to coils and snap, synapse lapse,

break bread in dreaming but no salt to be had, the wants of memory and a spent shell casing pinging against concrete steps, finality in the cymbal crash, in the sodden thump and cascade, never more,

but the ravens merely hungry and doesn’t want discussion,

drape the sanity like gauze, easily ripped away when it’s purpose conflicts with the grey light of dawn and the question on your lips.

Cast me out but let me fly, though I perch outside your door or bake me in and I mistake the warmth for the sun, flick ash and sand and watch world’s turn but only this once

Say that you are mine and wake me, a dreamer trapped in the dreaming, last relevant elevator pitch meeting,

let passion claim madness, let hope claim strength, let peace weep pain or merely love me, as I love you

Stream of consciousness – BDSM edition

When you say, “Sir”, it sends a frission through me. It ignites me like treated wood, builds burn to bright. My possession of you leads to possibilities of public and private. A touch to remind, a choker to mind, a corset to bind, harsh hemp rope making you mine. We are everyday. We are happy. You spark and burn when shocked and bled. My beautiful girl. Mine, mine mine, growl pours from lips to teeth biting clit. My need for you, my joy for you, each touch and sentence spoken, binding us closer. Commands become the choice of happiness and we move in tandem. You to hurt me as I command. My pain is pleasure and you are never denied. Passion pours from us in simple touch, the light in our eyes making truth where others see betrayal. We are blood and hope and fit together. The only thing improper is desire left to rot. But you hop and smile and say Sir. An exploration of boundaries, of each desire taken to the bleeding edge. Our comfort in the choices of each other. Of each other.

Losing sleep

Never knowin where this is all going
just broken
sifting sand looking for a emerald
that’s too general
not looking for money
it’s ephemeral
this life is not perfect
but some people make it worth it
friends and family
they just want the best for me

they don’t understand what that is though
I’m getting to the point where I don’t know
just looking for that spark that moment
when light shines and its all made clear
it’s misleading
mind knows the truth then I start thinking
let grief and fear cloud my feelings
I’m just sinking
waves got me drowning
ocean pulls me under
and makes me wonder if this peaceful sleep is the last thing I’ll choose
but I’ll never go quietly, out like a bang not a whimper
I’ll never be nearer

this hollow maze guides me back to choices made for me
heart that’s full to bursting
alleviate the pressure
fantasy never quite resolving to reality
words are both my truth and my victim
light myself on fire to light your way home to me
but talking to an empty room
it all just ends so soon
endings take care of themselves
but beginnings and middles can last forever
if we work at it
and if it ends
transform to bring me back to you
or break free from your cage and find me no longer in dreams but in the real
woken up to reality which makes sleep a enemy
not wanting to take a step further away from you
even as dreams pull me under

Connected unconnected

When we reduce other people to sensation
to what makes us feel good
we reduce our own humanity

We may be just puzzle pieces
lost and alone
looking for where we fit
but that’s no reason
to slip in-to, hedonistic glut

This is not a rant against pleasure but rather one against taking
we’ve been fucking so long we forgot about love making
About elevating

I’m not saying that pure pleasure in the moment is wrong but most days it does not feel right
It’s empty
And when we become empty for so long we look for anything to fill us
to make us feel accepted

Because we have forgotten what being loved felt like
Act in the service of love and painful as the mounting losses may be
you’ll always be free
of regret at least

There may not be a heaven
but there is surely a hell
because we create it here in our ongoing search for a pleasure that fills us

Our minds should be our faiths
we’re always looking for a way out when we should be following the path in

We take what we want
but taking makes wanting
until we fill ourselves with Prada and prizes
flush with money we chase the one dragon we know we can catch and that feeling fills us up for a time
but it’s still there that ache to be full on waking
that second time is never as real as the first
we become trapped in a hell of our making.

Sex, drugs, and loneliness
dragging down our dreamers all looking for connection but afraid to commit to connect.

We’re above such things
we can disconnect sex from love
free from all rules
but rules are not restriction.

Rules are the freedom to know where the lines are
so you know what you are doing when you cross them
Then it’s three AM and who is this next to me
were they wanting connection or just a slim moment of shared addiction.

Am I the stranger for wanting breakfast?

Fickle muse-playing with lyrics 

Accept me as I am
or reject me
but I am no object
to be picked up then discarded
for I have departed
beyond this veil of light and life
I come to you hard hearted
but watch me melt in sunshine rays
give me my glory
my past is my story
another word, another note
I’m past thinking that’s all she wrote
give me your hand
I swear I’ve got a plan
though they mostly involve asking you to stay
I’m a forever kind of lover
but leave me at the altar
and I’ll find another
my heart is too full to falter
my core is emotion
and emotion speaks poetry
to the last you’ll know it’s me
I may be to shy to say it in time
but I’ll always
know how
to say it
in rhyme