My eyes watch you, every word that escapes your lips,

Is seen with my mind, felt by my soul, and touched.

Touched by fingers longing to feel who you are.

Not brought about by love, but something different.

 

It’s something apart from love. It’s a need to know, to learn.

Every line, every smile, etches itself inside my thoughts,

Every word is heard, and I try to understand thoughts deeper.

Unspoken thoughts, that makes you who you truly are inside.

 

But it is deeply hidden, protected by pride or guarded from pain.

The lips that touch mine feel like light rains from heaven,

They dance across my mouth, and start a fire within my soul.

But a kiss restrained, held back, is something else I sense.

 

There is a sure deadness to it, cold and empty of feeling.

It is an act of conditioning, not born out of want or need,

Flawed by its perfection, it is practiced and precise.

The need to be perfect looms over your soul and changes your spirit.

 

Making it impossible to feel you from where I dwell.

I live in emotions, and dance upon the tides of life.

Reveling in the ability to feel pain, love, happiness and anguish.

For to forsake one, would surely mean the loss of another.

 

I am ruled by my senses, and you are guided by sense.

Sadly, the two cannot co-exist together for very long.

For one wants to create perfection, the other needs to dance.

A free spirit cannot love a tethered soul.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Unsteady breath, eyes closed, body alive with sensation,

I arrive at the entrance to heaven.

I am allowed to pass through, but am unable to.

I cannot descry that final, contenting step.

 

My heart is pounding, body tingling, mind screaming,

Wanting, needing, begging to pass between the doors.

Something unknown is holding me steadfast,

An unfamiliar forcefulness, is keeping me on the edge.

 

I am consumed by desire, driven by passion, and held by rapture.

Fearing judgment, my journey is scrutinized by my own mind.

Protecting myself, I hold back some of who I am,

Inadvertently causing my own loss, of unfeigned ecstasy.

 

My own unsure frailties will always be my devolution,

And will lead me from attaining that which I could easily possess.

I stay on the edge because I choose not to enter through,

I somehow cannot capture what I think I am not worthy of.

 

Giving into the inevitable, accepting the truism of my choice,

I turn around, and walk away from my chance,

Gone is my opportunity to touch heaven, and my prayer for felicity.

My longing to lose myself to the sweetness of bliss vanishes.

 

There is always another road that will lead me there,

For I have indeed passed those gates before.

And if I tune out all thought and patiently approach the apertures,

 I can easily pass by virtue of confidence and self-trust.

 

And on the other side, after I allow myself to fall,

The warmth of the moment caresses my body, and frees my soul.

Like a warm summers’ breeze that touches upon a field of wildflowers,

It finds me, calms the hunger inside, and quenches my thirst.

 

Struggling, breathing, gasping for air.

Praying for death, but being watched by life.

Looking out at the world,

Through dead, tired eyes.

 

Easy to pray for death,

Arduous to have it bestowed upon me.

Pulling the façade of happiness,

Over dead, tired eyes.

 

Despair swallows the beauty.

Blackness overtakes the light within.

Watching all hope evanish,

With dead, tired eyes.

 

Calling out to heaven, or hell.

Feeling Life has been foisted upon me,

Hiding all my secrets,

Behind dead, tired eyes.

 

Repose desperately coveted.

To ease my jaded heart, and soul.

Thirsting to close evermore,

My tired, dead eyes.

 

 

 

 

 

 

VISCERAL UTTERANCE.   

 

 

Deep in the darkness I can hear her voice calling to me,

Save your heart, save your soul, save yourself.

Somewhere through the endless pain and heartache,

There is still a part that is whole and unscathed.

Like placid waters, unchanged by the ripples of raindrops,

It is a place untouched, pure and calm, and aware of all evils.

The voice is like that of a child, often a mere whisper,

Quiet and knowing, innocent yet wise, steady yet cautious.

 

When faced with deep sorrow and immeasurable woe,

When hope and love succumb to anguish and disquietude,

The voice will painfully cry out with potent resonance.

Awakened from its slumber to preserve me, as well as itself.

Invoking strength and courage to abandon the abyss,

It guides me, undaunted, towards clarity and felicity.

Ever and anon, the voice inherently knows that despair deafens,

And it must cry out vehemently to gain absolute heed.

 

If the voice is abandoned, will it mean cessation of being?

For some, perhaps it is what made life bound to the earth.

To vilipend it, would cast a soul to damnation,

For this viscerous voice should be neither ignored nor denied.

Listen with meticulous ears and a peaceful heart,

Hear the declaration of guidance it proffers from within.

The voice will carry you with the winds of its wisdom,

Thus empowering empathy, compassion and above all, Love.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What would I see flow from my veins?

Would it be years of heartache and pains?

Would I hear God calling me home?

Or am I condemned to be all alone?

Am I destined to live or to die?

Or may I have wings, so I can fly?

Leaving behind my troubles and woe,

To watch over ones I’ve abandoned below.

 

I don’t wish to be here, I don’t wish to stay,

The price of my soul is too much to pay.

My desire to live is starting to fade,

The tears of torment drip from my blade.

Needing to capture deaths’ sweet embrace,

To be not afraid of what I will face.

Wanting to take that final, last stride.

Ending the sorrow and heartache inside.

 

What would I feel as my blood drained away?

Would I then panic and wish I could stay?

Would I regret the grief I would bring?

And run from the angels who joyfully sing?

If I should question my impending fate,

Could I then turn from Heavens’ white gate?

Or must I pass through with a tear in my eye,

Accepting my choice of preferring to die?

 

I believe I can live with walking away,

I don’t want to be here, I don’t want to stay.

If asked by another, I would honestly tell,

That being alive has been nothing but hell.

But since I’ve no courage, the secret I keep,

Is that I’m tired, and just want to sleep.

To close my eyes, and be lost in sweet dreams,

Not able to hear my souls’ painful screams.