With a voice so eerie,

That the nubs of my nipples 


And ends of my hair stand on 


And the chill of nostalgia snakes

up my spine,

You’ll whisper in my ear like a 


That nightly spell,

In the witching hour.
“I love you.”

Sucking the air out the room. 

With a feeling that’s stills time.

Some passion is so strong. 

It’s surpasses, past, present, and


Creates its own eternity of 

It never leaves. 

And everyone that walked into it’s wormhole.

Is stricken. 

Like I was stricken. 
Your invasion is a deadly force I’m haunted by. 
Day and night. 


The Nature of your Love

There is no description for your love blanketing around me. 

Except that it has melted the winter of my life. 

All the cruelty has been kissed to kindness. 

And I can’t remember anything but compassion. 
Anything but wanting to love you as fair as you love me.
Your love is like healing. 

Your love is like hoping.

Your love is living life anew. 


I want to turn all the time I spent on feeling lonely into feeling empowered and accomplished. 
I want to rediscover and create myself. 
There is whole world inside of me that I’ve yet to discover. 
And I don’t why I’ve spent so much time putting it off. 

But now every moment I’m not spending being happy, I want to at least try to transform into happiness, any way I can. 
I don’t always know how to be with myself. 
But I want to learn. 

Good God

God is in the gentle curve of your smile,

In the loosening of your shoulders,

The sigh and sag of your body.
Divinity is in your tenderness. 
Your face caressing my face, the way silk sheets run off hot soft skin. 

In the crack of your voice when it hums into a groan. 

A pantheon is made of the rising and falling timbres of your laughter. 

You are an engulfing wonder. 

Swallowing all in your midst, without the slightest hint to fathom. 

And so gracefully,

Surely obliviously. 

Your eyes could sway death to retire. 

You’ve crucified and resurrected me relentlessly with the slightest glance. 

You haven’t the faintest.

And you wouldn’t want to if you could. 
It all means nothing to you. 
To do things so magnificently, as you do. 
-I suppose​ for a God, to note such things would to be linger on the mediocre. 

Greatness is so ordinary to you. 


I’m so exhausting to be around.
So exhausting, heavy like 600 hundred pounds. 

Everyone runs the other way.
When my looks lose their stay.
And I can’t​ judge them not a lick.
I’m the type of person I tend to 


A Rut. 

I hate that I think of you. 
Nothing but you in the long silences. 
Bludgeoning myself to death. 
Measuring myself worth by your touch. 
And I can’t even blame you, 

not at all. 
This is all my fault. 
Filling my mouth with Buddhist chants. 

Stuffing my head with silent meditations.

Trying to silence the madness. 

It’s not going anywhere,





Then the rolling crash. 
Wonder where you were last.
Why must I be so insecure. 
My sanity lost in a blur.
Everything is out of reach. 
And I’m in the middle, marooned on this island is me.
I can’t recognize anything,

I look so tired, I’m wasting. 
For the wholeness I’m craving. 

Not even self love can fill me 

So far out of love, deserted in my rut. 

A dying star

Maya once said,

Something simple but evident

“When someone shows you who they are, believe them the first time.”
The more you show it. 

The more I’m starting to listen. 

So stop asking why I’m so 

I’m full with the void that you 

created in your absence. 
I’m the last thing in your world.
And I’m fading. 


On times hand

Did I fall and land

An hour late

And still I wait
Ever so patient

And ever so quaint

You must have fallen sick

I defend in your wake
One day, two day

Four day, three

Oh how easy 

In love, to make a fool of me.