What Is This?

What is this? When a jolt in my soul is felt every time a kiss is shared, a whisper is spoken, a touch is felt? It’s something that is indescribable, yet completely self-explanatory. It’s something that not only fills my heart, but overflows into my entire body and soul. It’s about the chills that hit every part of my spine when I think about him. It’s a color that can never fade. It’s something that can lead us to the place called forever. It’s the magnificence seen by sincerity revealed through his eyes. It is the feeling that still lingers long after our kiss is over. It’s something that can weather any storm and it’s a teardrop in a rainstorm. Though our relationship contains distance between us, it’s like the wind to a fire. It puts out the small ones, but enflames the big ones. And even though he is some distance away he can still make me smile. He’s not one of the reasons why I’m happy all day long or why I’ll never feel alone again. He’ll never be one of the reasons…because he’s the ONLY reason. I can’t get him out of my head. Every little thing that he does just strengthens everything that I feel. It’s the way he makes the setting sky more beautiful to gaze upon. It’s the way our hands match perfectly – the spaces between our fingers were created so that our other half could fill them perfectly. It’s the way he catches all of my attention with out ever saying a word. It’s the way I get weak at the knees when I get lost in his captivating eyes and it’s the way I can’t breathe when I’m around him. It’s the way my heart skips a beat when I see him and the way my heart can feel him there even when he’s miles away. It’s the way he makes me fall all over again like I did the first time. My knees went weak and I couldn’t catch my breath the first time we really kissed. And now every time he really kisses me, even if it’s as simple as a kiss on the nose, I feel that way over and over again. He is the piece to my life puzzle that I have been waiting to find…and he fits perfectly. So what is this that I have been describing? I’ll leave that up to you to figure out…

It Rises In The West & Sets In The South...

the sun rose in the west today, the people panicked
i started living my life backwards, enjoying the way the populous interacted
now the wales cry for the one last word that survives their language
it sounds like "wwhhaaaa" but couldn't possibly be a portion of the intuition
just a series of examples of pain that can never be expressed

today the sun broke into a thousands shards of silver lined glass
sending the emotions of the suicide to an even higher level of forevers
the eyes of the forgotten are lined with undisclosed last words
tear-stained shirts impaled with the nevermore swords
mantra paintings on the floor tiles stained with the innocence of wine

the people watch me from afar and judge my next actions in a suitcase
they find the examples of the common sociopath to be my everyday pace
i sit here with no satisfaction and full of broken space for my place
roomers wait for me to evaluate their glimmering shadow puppets
tomorrow will be the day for the darkness to fall to the righteous

yesterday was the last time i actually evaluated love
i asked it the questions i've always asked myself
and now i realized that nothing quite aligns with the formats
love produces a feeling much like the swing of a bat
the impact is soft but firm, fair and balanced, common like the rat

tomorrow i will awake and not remember the previous evening
i've lost my memory and can't quite grasp the feeling of being
no longer am i real, yet nothing around me is fake
piled up--i am like the dormant leaves under the rake
here i am awaiting trial by the children who play

you follow your problems by running from them
little do you know that the mirror is your issue
you can't look back into it without severing a limb
extremities of yours can't handle the abuse
but you're addicted to the pain you constantly re-use

weeks ago i dealt with the time it took to ride the bus
here i am forgetting that you would actually one day trust
other objects to tell you it was now and not later
and when death is your only friend you'll understand too
there time pieces are nothing but a waste of your time

i lied when i spoke about my past
and i couldn't stand what it brought back
i keep trying to white it out with poison
but ghosts haunt to remain annoying
and that's why guillotine traps are set for regret

i was living in a california castle one afternoon
anguished by the hectic noise of the highway
i looked into the courtyard and there stood a man
the crow cawed for his loss of ability to stand
for the love he would never come to know

winter passes in the shortest breath of mother earth's chest
whispers are cast in the season of the dead that keep it blessed
no longer will there be a solstice but the weather will continue to contuse
the animals of the wild with no relevance of mortality
mother earth passes messages in class just like the rest of humanity


~Earth mounds and slow fevers. heal shortly, don't fall short of healing.

Love,
Digress.

In The Mirror

i slept with Human Perfection and awoke a new man looking in the mirror for bad ideas
then, giving up the concept completely; i found use for the tears
falling with consistency and cracking all the mirrors
bad luck came with the rising of the sun, it'll last for years she can help me forget
she smiles at me and gives me a kiss and fades back into the forgiving loveliness
Human Perfection is funny, she's oblong and soft, watches me with brown eyes that wring
all the clouds into the feathers of birds with everlasting wings, for me they're simply beating
i approach Human Perfection with caution, i must not harm the love that's fleeting
keen nights are spent in the eyes of lost bears, searching for the findings of the peers
we keep our kisses secret and overwhelm the presence of our held hands held so dear
we speak with clarity and keep the memory of the beginning times without a fear
slowly--we elaborate to keep big bangs under the countertop, enveloping the invention
i approach her with the posture of a simple innovation in the common messages mentioned
though it's trite and can be often amused, we can't speak to the thoughts we haven't abused
as i vanish into the distance i think of the presence and how it changes my perception
i bide my time until i give her two more cents for wandering eyes to mention
top to bottom she begins each motion with a simple contraction of the beauty
keeps it close and watches as the ocean evaporates for her feet to find me
framed in the lids of eyes that shine with the brilliance of one thousand suns
once placed under the gun, rushed emotions flourish able to pinpoint where it begun
the epicenter of an earthquake to keep the neighborhood awake, our minds are spun
around the ideas that never quite make it to the lung and out the mouth
taking steps around the lake and discovering the sensual things we dream about
we spin in flat circles at the end of the day, looking for the end of the couch as not to fall out
carried away in the passion of the last words and the beginning of new actions never before forged
ironclad and doused in wine we talk tables and reference future in the most current of terms
and sleeping with Human Perfection has been the best lesson i have learned


~Love poems again.

Love,
Digress.

Technically Twisted.

we're not technically on the same page

but the thought of your ghost haunts my age

i'm caught between the hard place of last moment

and the rock of my first atonement

the twisted shapes of your soul carry me to a new level

and the last words i spoke were of your upheaval

how you tore into flesh and left me minus breath

torn 

from head to navel

so breathe easy in the glimmering shutters of my eyes

draw silence from the last passenger of your thighs

this was the motion sickness you injected into my lives

the boat is rocking from the tsunami you produce

cut my noose and let me loose

the rope tightens on not only my wrists and neck

but on the vacancy of your first-born shipwreck

no need for rescue

we're dying in this mess

together we drown in the sorries we deliver

without a whisper from twisted tongues 

we lie in a watery grave

for us, the bell is rung

and no longer will we invent

nor live the love that once was

because because because

and this is the last thing i'll leave you with:

a love letter from the me that refused to shift

to capital letters producing the warning of a new sentence

and the empty gains of a horribly-misguided inventions

so goodbye old friend

i'll let go as soon as your memory is dead.

~Dead to me, but not to the world. goodbye old friend.

Cuddles and Kisses,

Digress

An Ocean of Sickness

i'm sick and dizzy, my brian feels pressure with impunity
a hate has boiled over and i can't control her
give me something else to alleviate the pain
the pressure is building and i'm wracking my brain
this is the last straw, i'm gonna punch somebody in the face
and it's going to go down on my permanent record and not erase
because the person lives with me and sleeps next to my place
that i claimed mine at the beginning of the year
and i thought that i my thoughts would be clear
but now i can't stand just the thought of this
because you've tightened my life into fists
and now you come into the story
enter left stage, because now you've entered the story

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

grab the matches and let it soak they will all appreciate the joke
after they realize it's not exactly something to take light
because this is the spark of not a war but a fight
step forward and take the responsibility of tonight
if you really think you're on top come talk to me with sight
clarity beyond most is what i'll present to you with a bite
burn your clothes and melt your hair under the flame
this was the last time that i let you enter my brain
broken records repeat the last sign that your lame
as a thinker and an scholar, how far will you go
before you realize you don't contain the capacity to show
the world exactly what you want to be
i struggle the same way, but at least i don't need to lean
on the most obvious choice for the typical parasite
because that's what you are--an insect of the populous

i'm surrounded by trite cliches
thinking that they're unavoidable
and that they're not the soil
they try to break me down as a man total

how dare you, place me in this position
now i've got to make this incriminating decision
whether or not to enjoy your company
i feel like i want to ostracize what you mention
or maybe i just need to get in detention
so that i can stay away from the moments of your invention
and your emotions are the volcano of my tension
so why oh why did you place me in this?
am i just a symbol of where you'd like to piss?
or am i the creation of everything you miss?
i don't want to know the answer because i like a little mystery
i don't think you even know the answer to my misery
but that's okay, because it's your trite nature
to be something that nature couldn't nurture


~If i only got along with all these people. but i don't... and in a way, that makes me happy.

Love,
Digress.

real women

its tough you know not yet being in the real world with real women and real men and not being taught that in the real world the women look like me not like my skinny little roommate its hard to hear that from a real woman still yet no graduated from college its hard you know looking in that mirror and only seeing what i see that body of mine that hair of my that skin of mine and then and then and then turn around and have someone tell me that i am beautiful its its its just not right because why cant i see it and why can i feel it and why cant i know it its hard you know learning to love whatever you got its hard when you bust your butt in that gym everyday waiting and wondering and hoping and wishing and praying for a better you for a better me why cant i learn to love me?

A Different Kind Of Wrong

Have you ever felt something that felt so wrong, but somehow you knew that it was right? That you were supposed to be feeling that way? And maybe not wrong in a normal sense of right and wrong as we learned as young kids – but a much different kind of wrong. A wrong that goes beyond what an expert would tell us is the correct definition. A wrong that feels so wrong only because it’s so right. And the only reason why it feels right is because it’s something so unfamiliar. It’s something that we have never felt before. We’re not quite sure how to handle it because we’re used to something that’s completely opposite. It just feels wrong…but in a right way. This wrong feels so right because perhaps for once in our life, we want to believe that things are going to be different. That things won’t always be defined in our lives by the cliché definition that the world makes us believe. A wrong that makes us feel hopeful, possibly even pure, a wrong that we want to feel forever – even though we know that forever wouldn’t come close to being long enough. This feeling is something stronger than we’ve ever felt before… but why do we feel so weak? It’s a weakness that is terrifying, overwhelming, and it scares us to death. Our first instinct would be to run…but we cannot run away from weakness – we sometimes have to fight it out – or maybe just run along side of it to see where it might take us. It could bring light to that flame in our heart that has been burning out for years…or bring to life a passion that should be gracefully felt out. Leaving that passion unattended would burn the flame to its own self-destruction. This passion is temptation that is silenced by a ray of hope – and sometimes this ray of hope is dimmed by issues of trust that have troubled us in our past. But we must learn to believe that our heart will not always be handled as it was before. That we will feel hands of a gentle and comforting nature instead of always rough and controlling. A pair of hands wrapped around our heart with a sign saying, “I will handle-with-care”, and during the moments when we cannot see him, our hearts can feel him there. I feel him there.