i find our errors to be nothing but self evident
in a sense of mankind benefiting from the delicate
nature of our state of mind
becoming to be, yet failing to fall
from what it was in the moment
we let it all go
i find myself in statue moments
feigning from the past of how it was
instead of how i wanted it to become
from the errors i once had
i triumph from terror, fighting knights i once had
running to bliss from hallways of desire
i read chapters from ages which don’t make sense
because sense is something i only know from my point of view
like these words on pages only find sense to some
in ways they’re read because a rhythm only reads a way i allow
like the currents in rivers where i succumb to memories of you
reds to blues to yellows to high glances
from pills i used to take to wade my mind from you
and we’re singing in a tune i’ve only sung once before
for a man in glasses looking at me
from stairs down the hall
nearing our edges of bathroom porcelain
i’m pulling for oxygen, for elegance
for words on paper you couldn’t read
for beds are broken with two in kind and two in mind
two in a pace without one ahead or one behind
i resign from inside echoes
stages of you
blues and greens
how i always saw
you
-
-
in the dark of your taste
i bend for your broken heart
a dire scream in the sheets with ease
how i bend and tear your chest from parts
where i used to store a heart i held for you
like broken songs on records i’d play
the same tune stays for echoes on end
i bliss in tune with memories of our childhood
feet closer than we thought
cracks on streets seemed deeper than they were
like songs children would play
thoughts i remember in years after sheets covered our eyes
from terrors at night
our hands apart
poems at bay
with coding to slim the words i used to say
and we met
a few years too far from where we were
too soon to where we are in this moment
i touch the tip of your fingers
because i can
i touched the tip of your head
because i could
i left a piece of thought in your brain
because the words i said
we in your thoughts
before i could shut and open the door
of where our memories strayed -
running on lines i told myself in echo
of where i was when time was fine
like ruins in my brain from days where
a daze was all i had
but i’m dancing in oasis
yet some call it purgatory
i think of it more as if it’s harmony
a soul and mine combined to find ideas
i used to tell myself in night
where shadows crept upon
dying was beside me
it was like fine wine
but cheap wine got us drunk faster
into you before i
and i watched as you twirled
in and out of consciousness
ignoring unrequited bliss
and he was a preacher
who talked upon himself
a hardness, a leather
blue sheets at night
with the moon of bronson
talking to us
from cemeteries we used to lie under
with voices in night
i still talk to you
i still talk at you
and it was always for you
like love in light
wine in night
shadows i used to hide
like pride on my tongue
how i used to give you it all
as if its high tide and you needed mine
to breathe at night -
The darkest hours bring the most light.
-
i find you in soft error
in ways i can’t remember
like edges of tables
they exist but we don’t beg to ask
we frolic in ways
i can’t quite grasp
and i’m pulling on weights in my mind
wondering if this is right
if time divides or collides our truths
we’re swaying in the backyard
wandering far from where we hide
two in kind, two in a high tide
and i fight to break the walls we create
in nights of summer where things become
a slight bit warmer
like the sheets of your bed
glide against your shins
and i’m laying my leg against your body
we’re creating warmth without thought
and the tables have edges
without thought
do things fall before they fly
or do they fly before they fall
i’m spinning in my mind
with questions i can’t remember
temptation in december
with years on my life
movement on my mind
and i’m swaying
alone
but it’s fine
you in thought
you in past lives
we regret because we can’t fill voids
but i don’t regret
i love, i lust, i fill molds in truth
you in plain view and past creates present
past love is the definition of present -
to be at ease
of christmas eve
under darkened skies
where i think of you
like wine nights
easy cries
in the midst of memories
where we’re spinning
out of control
of hands we used to hold
do we linger or do we fall
do we hold or do we crawl
from past trauma of what it was
and i sip this like light
like i feel for smaller times
instead of dark nights
where i used to think of you
in shadows of corners
on balconies
where we’re hiding the truth
in which i dealt with you
throwing knives at walls
to necks where you
know what i’m talking about
and i miss the dark
as i long for light
because without dark
i do not know time
i do not know past
i do not know bad
i do not know what i truly have
you in mind
and it’s you all the time -
in desire i found youth
upon your light twined mind
with ego i bend for you
before beds quake and oceans tide
under skies at night i wade for truth
to be okay with—
i find in moods at night
with songs of sultry in the background
in dark corners of an apartment
with dirty carpet
fine tuned minds we utter words
which make no sense
like dark knights on horses in forests
we dance to shadows
from waves which make movement
like we used to
and i feel used too
like a collective turned moment
where we’re spinning in motions
creating emotion by strangers in streets
running to abolish our meaning
but we’re defined by moments
created by longing emotion
from lovers of seconds to years
spinning wheels in streets
grabbing hands for warmth
for touch, for passion of nights
where we twine under sheets
to tango in skin
where bones touch
but feelings collide
and we fall in love for seconds
believing this is all but everything
but nothing at all -
I loved myself and since I loved me, I loved him because I realized he was good for me. A type of self worth, a type of narcissistic love.
-
The difference between fucking and loving is taboo to some because not everyone can separate their emotions.
-
i’m loving in your eyes
turning to sides
swaying in the night
finding you in emotion
to turn with grasp of your shoulder
i’m holding a tune
to feel in depth with you
without the details of our skin
the pores i reminise in
nights where i feel like
we might have been
but i tango in tune
with a rhythm you sold
in darkness at night
behind alleys in bars
where i surrender before
the fire in our eyes
a connection i confide
in you in years ago
before i knew what time was
i tango in thought
leaving you without arms
a man with hands
which couldn’t grip
i stay in rhythm
without with you in this
