Take me back in time, just a few weeks is fine, back to when you smiled and danced in time with the drum. When our laughter and hearts were open, our guts spilled across the floor. I miss your smiling face and penetrating voice, the warmth your jokes send through me. I miss my friend.

the only safe place is behind a mask,

carefully constructed, 

crafted to conceal the ungodly horror,

you sweat, you cry, you bleed beneath this mask,

in a world that would destroy if it noticed you.

a world marching ever forward,

a banner raised with a cross,

emblazoned bright red and burning,

the word love beneath it.

now the wounds are sore and infected,

but you don't dare remove the mask,

to do so would mean a new banner would be raised,

painted with your blood the words jesus saves

Tomorrow is the day,
Tomorrow has toil and pain,
Tomorrow the sun will rise and set,
Tomorrow I march,
Tomorrow I sweat,
Tomorrow I bleed,
I know one day this will all crash around me,
One day the sun will swallow he earth,
One day the electricity behind my music will stop,
One day I will die and my words will disappear into ash,
But that day is not today,
For today I live,
For today my headphones blare,
My cigarette burns,
And my eyes are dry.

I wasted days like you waste money. They came and went in dazzling blurs that will never be remembered. In trying to feel alive I came within inches of death and looked it in the eyes.
Then I met you. Beautiful, smart, broken you. And I destroyed you. I never meant to but it’s like giving a child a crystal sculpture. He might understand it’s beauty and craftsmanship but he will never be safe with it. He will store it with the baseball glove and football pads.
when I held the broken pieces my mind raced wirred trying desperately to find away to make t not so. The sharp edges of the broken glass that was her sliced my hands and feet. I couldn’t escape lets I inflict further pain. As I grew I realized that the only way out is to put a strip of leather between my sole and the ground and use a similar application with my soul and the world around me.

Today I wrote your name on a cigarette, and I set it adrift.
I hope you will find it, and understand I still want to see you.

I sit on the edge of inspiration, the mood is on me as I smoke another cigarette, the taste of the last pack still on my lips.
I am on the edge of inspiration patiently sitting waiting for my words to take shape. I picture you to help it along. If I could only taste you on my lips again my heart would leap with poetic words and love tales.
But I sit. And wait. On the edge of inspiration

I see you only at night.
It’s been a year since I first kissed your smiling lips and I tasted what you were hiding behind it.
A year and two weeks since we first met. You wrote a note in my journal. I now associate the leaves colorful change to your beautiful eyes.
I only see you in my dreams now.
11 months since i last saw you and I am starting to forget how your nose felt pressed against mine.
I am starting to forget the shape of your short hair.
I only see you at night but soon I won’t be able to see you at all.

I love fall. For many reasons.
The colors change.
Pumpkins.
Holloween.
Sweaters.
Leaves to play in.
Beautiful colors.

And I met her.
Her smile. The small gap between her two front teeth that one could only find by exploring her mouth with ones tongue.
Her short dyed black hair with a hint of purple.
Her hips. These perfect hips that swished this way and that in the sexiest blend of grace and clumsiness.
Her hands. Her soft hands and scarred wrists that I explored with my finger tips.
Her eyes. The green center and blue outline with a tinge of yellow in one eye. They glowed bright for everyone to see. Especially against her hair.

I hate fall. For many reasons.
Things die.
It gets cold.
I lost her.

I remember it wasn’t until a while later I saw her again. I sat with my friends laughing pretending she wasn’t a hole in my soul. And there she was standing over me. My eyes met hers, a nervous smile on her face that I only saw after we were finished fucking. The smile that says she was afraid I would my leave her. But I wasn’t the one who left a suicide note in the for of two words in my phones inbox. I didn’t say I was sorry and try to leave her forever. That was her. And now she is gone. Gone away to a distant land with me hoping that she will find the strength to text me.

I hate the fall. Because everything dies in the fall