In the Red of my obsession,
a blue sky swells over me
And shade, shrinks.

although love's exonerated,
In your blandishment,
Growth fetters,
callow and unambitious.

not for a lack of apathy,
But a need, a Desire.
Desire for liberation,
Dismissal of preconceived notions

Of my remaining lust
My enduring reverence
My exceeding infatuation,
A constancy of adoration
That IS no more.

Truth is,
I never hated you,
I still don't hate you,
But,
I don't love you.

I'll wait for the day I can tell you,
I do not need you.
I don't need you to know,
I am NOT counting my moments
desirous for our reunion.

In your recollection,
My name resounds
passion, longing
Devotion, sullen desperation...

Be enlightened:
once a flame glimmered
Hard in my affection,
And met its demise

On the tip of your tongue,
its silent ways,
and in the Black of my affliction.

I don't know what I'm doing. I never have. I just don't understand why I have to be lost alone?

I will torture myself eternal... With the actions of others. 

Days and nights like this, the high won't let me sleep. 

The season disappoints

my expectation

of Earth tones waltz

on nature's canvas.

Bursts of brilliant red break

through dying green and crumpled brown

to tap dance on my hair.

...Short lived hope

for the beauty promised.

Sun shafts cast warm pockets

of wind that lift and drop

wrinkled leaves.

...They fall slowly to death

like sheets of paper.

Great piles of dying summer,

once a hiding place...

only cripple under my weight,

leaving me on the cold ground.

Branches half-dead depress

in their weakened state,

and memories, colorblinded,

fade as summer expires.

Flocks of birds sing a

haunting sadness of

summer's passing,

as they depart.

...I hum along,

and follow them home.

I am

disappointed.

And, once again,

I'm dried leaves,

suppressed and saddened,

wilted,

just waiting on the wind.

.

watching you watching me,
fuels my ignition.
waiting on
an explosion of
nerves,
firing and misfiring.
exchanges of
words,
naughty and yearning.
but sufficing on
my own, batteries,
and steamy dreaming of
your generosity,
with destroyed clothes
and mangled sheets,
leaving me
exposed
and increased.
waiting like
a fireball burning,
sparkling a soft haze,
patient
and churning,
waiting to be set ablaze.

careful careful careful

-->

Embrace,

and our lips meet.
Part. Moisten.
I feel you pulling me,
your hands on my curves.

You are comforted.
Reclining.
I am anxious.
Careful.

I feel the deep
in and out of your chest,
full and firm

pressed across my bust.

Safe.

My pulse is screaming.

Ever increasing.

Chaotic.

You are controlled.
Precise.
I am cautious.
Nervous.

Your hand grazes
my bare skin.
A whimper escapes

when your teeth
take in my neck.
Your grip tightens.
Eager.

My beat slows

to meet your own.

Melodic.

You are affected.
Strong.
I am exposed.
Softened.

My thighs ache.

Kindled.

Rocking in

your rhythm.

Restless.

The Wall is down.

Briefly.
My eyes
shifted.

I feel you
seeing me.
I see you

taking me.

Our eyes meet.

Expressions

are wild.

Heated.

Hear your

hands wandering

and my body

rising.

I hear my

panties rip.

Our skin sweats

together.

Steaming.

You are confident.

Steady.

I am burning.

Swiftly.

No breathing,

a quick familiar,

feeling. and

tightening,

tingling,

exhaling,

releasing.

You are dizzy.

I am surrendered.

Basking.

Intoxicated.

I gently float
on my limits.
Pushing and
pressing,
softly.

Loving
dysfunctionally,
and weeping
for it,
woefully.

Gliding
and misleading,
the strings of my
heart,
foolishly.

I'll continue to
depress my love
in longing.
I'll keep it from
mending.

I know nothing else.

So, let me get this straight. All my life my mother and two older sisters, friends, coworkers, etc. tell me, "Don't settle!"

And now, I must either lower my expectations or leave the one I'm with. Cruel fucking game, Life.

Sometimes, I feel like my bones are dynamite-old and volatile.  Like, with your every hint of annoyance, BOOM.  My wish is granted.  But, only sometimes.

Strong ass feeling, though.

My heart has never been heavier.  I'm pretty sure I'll collapse soon–I cannot carry it on my own much longer.

I envy the serenity that must come from being a tree.

Today, I noticed the season change. The leaves have begun to wilt, lose their color, and crumble to the ground. They speed off as if some exotic destination awaits them; sadly, it is only death no matter their path. They will be piled, composted, and made to make new life for the next growing season.

The trees are left to repair, alone. Much like me, once again, repairing alone. My craft does suffer when I am with someone. My focus changes completely to this other person. I'm not certain why? Humans have always had trouble balancing, I was told recently. I suppose that is true. I cannot balance my love of another with my love of me. Perhaps, I do not love me as I should. If someone should love me, it should be me... right? I've got to find some path to tackling this great feat of self-worth. Another thing that has difficulty maintaining its balance.

So, fall remaking is upon me, and the bliss of a sun-kissed summer is leaving. The bliss of ignorant love is gone. Life will pale with my skin and sink into winter's grasp.

I do not know how I am to find solace in any of the current happenings.

I don't know what I'm doing... I am faithfully trying. Faithfully, failing. I am only trying to make it through this life.. trying to be a good person... trying to be someone, upon which, others can rely. I am only trying.

I don't know what I'm doing. Luckily, no one knows. Maybe, I'm not so alone as I've thought.

I'm like a cement wall made from individual bricks. When it was created, it was solid. It was strong. It didn't bend to harsh weather or continued climbing by children.

It's strong in one piece.

Slowly, time has eroded it. Slowly, pieces have been scrapped off, rain has deteriorated its slabs, and in the sun, it fades. Faster, this happens. As passing of the years quickens, the corruption of it's foundation speeds closer to total loss.

I'm like, half standing right now. I left an important piece of me at the base of the Sangre de Cristo Mountains. I think I might return often to try repairing myself.

fuck your punctuation

"Maybe in 5 or 10, yours and mine will meet again; straighten this whole thing out... there's really no way to reach me; cause I'm already gone."

Thankful this day is closing. I have been sedated in self-pity for hours. I need a new day. I need a new sunrise; a new sunset... I need a change of scenery... it's coming, it's coming. Besides copious amounts of thinking, this day has been wasteful. Smile here, joke there, laugh now, cry later... I need a new day... I need a new fucking byline.

fata morgana

she appeared, with the first dawn’s glare
promising her creation
as attainable mystic-ness
where third realm light
becomes reality
with her wistful translucence
and serene, almost surreal, silhouette
she materialized with the carbon in the atmosphere
brilliant, she seemed
so immaculate and roseate
realizing my sacrificed dreamland
I reached for her cream colored shadowy hand
but she slipped through me
leaving her majestic essence
within my entity
all unsuspecting delusions
overwhelming sudden confusion
mastered my compassion
and like an intangible fabrication
at a fairy tale end
she was gone
like all other apparitions
breaking my confidence, all over again
as a mirage leaves nothing
and bequeaths only wanting
So, all I am is just waiting
anticipating my fantasy’s return

I sleep to finish... effortless.

In the Red of my obsession,
a blue sky swells over me
And shade, shrinks.

although love's exonerated,
In your blandishment,
Growth fetters,
callow and unambitious.

not for a lack of apathy,
But a need, a Desire.
Desire for liberation,
Dismissal of preconceived notions

Of my remaining lust
My enduring reverence
My exceeding infatuation,
A constancy of adoration
That IS no more.

Truth is,
I never hated you,
I still don't hate you,
But,
I don't love you.

I'll wait for the day I can tell you,
I do not need you.
I don't need you to know,
I am NOT counting my moments
desirous for our reunion.

In your recollection,
My name resounds
passion, longing
Devotion, sullen desperation...

Be enlightened:
once a flame glimmered
Hard in my affection,
And met its demise

On the tip of your tongue,
its silent ways,
and in the Black of my affliction.