growing into love

young and in love

freedom vs angst to the adolescent kind
just naive to the word
that was me, foolish and stern
but swore, it was always genuine

no need to reminisce
'cause to an aged lover
love does exist.

its when I cry when he's not here
or when he touches my skin and all my nerves respond
its the love I've grown to know
selfless, committed happiness

these days stretch into weeks
copious thoughts fill this silent breach
piercing silence left my pulse in my ears
cant sleep; weeks turn into years.

captivated in you
doubt; up and flew
contentment doesn't always have to be official
if this bind was this: initial.

traced my finger along lines engraved in wood
fixed myself with a drink or two
satisfaction it gave me, I knew it would
looked at you

dangerous infatuation flew

new flame emitted
coloured twist through my chest; to my head.
I'm lifted.

picked up some box and spilt it
confusion swept, a mess it set;
both in which seemed perfect.

picked out six

T N O B O S

placed in front of me

hourglass

sand bits trickled low
subtle in between narrow glass
stone by stone, each illustrating a place in time

traveling stone of sand up in my future
trapped in my present, slipped away to the past.


"sand is over rated; its just tiny little rocks"

journal

today,
I walked in my room.
the door shut behind me.

a film scene; my cue to fall straight to my knees.

another day without the other half of myself, we'll call it my heart.
another night of wishing it didn't go to someone else.

my heart went to the city.
it's the director in its own film noir filled with cynical attitudes and sexual motivations

nature

in it's ugliest form

these swells of water bring hopes higher.