The mountain's on its way,
straining the air in quakes.
I hold my fingers in knots
to keep from shaking.
If we could tie our hands together, I'd feel okay,
and could pull you back from danger
by your waist;
keep you from the passageway;
keep you safely in place.

I dream in tremors,
and I want to see your face....

Time

When I lay down to sleep, I feel alone.  But, I think about you nestled against me, with your head on my chest.  Our fingers intertwined.  Our legs against each other.

I think about the low vocalizations that come from quiet conversation.  The intimate words.  The raw, vulnerable fears and hopes.  The closeness.

It comforts me.  It helps me to feel a part of another person's internal machine.  To soothe it, and be meshed together with my own.

I love you.  I really do.

I'm still not sure quite what that means.  What it implies.  But it's what I feel.

The connection is there.  I believe in it.  Sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't express it.  But, I do anyway.  And it comforts me.

With all of the loneliness in my heart, I am reluctant to latch on to those things.  But I desperately want to.  It helps fulfill my being.

It takes someone special to elicit that from me.  It takes a gentle voice, a caring heart.  It takes real love.

And the fear of losing it is real.  Always.  That sickening fear is always there, somewhere.  But I still hope that it's real.  And for me.

I don't want you to be alone.  I don't want you to feel pain or sadness, even though it's impossible to make that a reality.  But I try as hard as I can.  I'll keep trying.  And every day, it feels more real and concrete, and not just my own delusional extrapolations.  I truly, sickeningly love you.  With all of the beauty we've experienced together, I have to believe there's something real there.  And with the cadence of our voices, I have to believe that it's real.

--

The romance of it all is both unbearable and serene, like my chest is swelling at the thought of being with you.  I don't really know what's acceptable or not.  I don't really know how much of this places me on a decline.

But I need that voice.  I need those emotions coming toward me.  I really need you, and I hope you need me just as profoundly.  No matter what else ever happens; when the world crumbles; when the land is a swamp and drowning me; when the sky is warm and lighting the verdant fields; when everything is loneliness; when the air is filled with happy thoughts... Whenever, however the state of the day is.  It's still there; that need.  The need to be close to you.

To hold you and feel your skin against mine, to feel like there is another person's nerves accepting my electricity.  I can calm you, and I can make you smile.  I can help you feel loved and a part of something special.  I can bring you into me, to feel warmth and sustenance. I can give you real love; real, Human love.

The world always feels like static.  Painful interference is constantly prickling at me.  I spend so much of my life figuring out ways to deal with it, and a part of that is keeping the world at a distance.  So, a lot of this scares me and makes me feel childish for being afraid at all to express something real.

Yet all the words are the same when I hear your voice.  It's all meaningless.  I just want to hear you and feel what you feel, and be a part of you, and you of me.

All the history of my pains and disappointments shouldn't matter.  I am trying to be in this moment of life, to hope that it's something I deserve and am allowed.  Something that doesn't come with a condition.

Something that doesn't end.

There are so many reasons I want your company, and your companionship, and your empathy, and your love.  All I can do, though, is want them.  I can't convince you with reasons.  I have to hope I can be a person deserving of them, and deserving enough to keep them with me.

It's all I think about lately.  It scares me, because I don't know how much more I'm going to give to you before I realize that I've given too much.  And then, It's gone.

Time is a grip ever-tightened,
its veins coarse and rough,
and sand fills my lungs in time.
I want to breathe you,
instead of atrophy's climb
crumbling into a sigh;
to rise with your hand in mine.

Time

When I lay down to sleep, I feel alone.  But, I think about you neslted against me, with your head on my chest.  Our fingers intertwined.  Our legs against each other.

I think about the low vocalizations that come from quiet conversation.  The intimate words.  The raw, vulnerable fears and hopes.  The closeness.

It comforts me.  It helps me to feel a part of another person's internal machine.  To soothe it, and be meshed together with my own.

I love you.  I really do.

I'm still not sure quite what that means.  What it implies.  But it's what I feel.

The connection is there.  I believe in it.  Sometimes I feel as though I shouldn't express it.  But, I do anyway.  And it comforts me.

With all of the loneliness in my heart, I am reluctant to latch on to those things.  But I desperately want to.  It helps fulfill my being.

It takes someone special to elicit that from me.  It takes a gentle voice, a caring heart.  It takes real love.

And the fear of losing it is real.  Always.  That sickening fear is always there, somewhere.  But I still hope that it's real.  And for me.

I don't want you to be alone.  I don't want you to feel pain or sadness, even though it's impossible to make that a reality.  But I try as hard as I can.  I'll keep trying.  And every day, it feels more real and concrete, and not just my own delusional extrapolations.  I truly, sickeningly love you.  With all of the beauty we've experienced together, I have to believe there's something real there.  And with the cadence of our voices, I have to believe that it's real.

--

The romance of it all is both unbearable and serene, like my chest is swelling at the thought of being with you.  I don't really know what's acceptable or not.  I don't really know how much of this places me on a decline.

But I need that voice.  I need those emotions coming toward me.  I really need you, and I hope you need me just as profoundly.  No matter what else ever happens; when the world crumbles; when the land is a swamp and drowning me; when the sky is warm and lighting the verdant fields; when everything is loneliness; when the air is filled with happy thoughts... Whenever, however the state of the day is.  It's still there; that need.  The need to be close to you.

To hold you and feel your skin against mine, to feel like there is another person's nerves accepting my electricity.  I can calm you, and I can make you smile.  I can help you feel loved and a part of something special.  I can bring you into me, to feel warmth and sustenance. I can give you real love; real, Human love.

The world always feels like static.  Painful interference is constantly prickling at me.  I spend so much of my life figuring out ways to deal with it, and a part of that is keeping the world at a distance.  So, a lot of this scares me and makes me feel childish for being afraid at all to express something real.

Yet all the words are the same when I hear your voice.  It's all meaningless.  I just want to hear you and feel what you feel, and be a part of you, and you of me.

All the history of my pains and disappointments shouldn't matter.  I am trying to be in this moment of life, to hope that it's something I deserve and am allowed.  Something that doesn't come with a condition.

Something that doesn't end.

There are so many reasons I want your company, and your companionship, and your empathy, and your love.  All I can do, though, is want them.  I can't convince you with reasons.  I have to hope I can be a person deserving of them, and deserving enough to keep them with me.

It's all I think about lately.  It scares me, because I don't know how much more I'm going to give to you before I realize that I've given too much.  And then, It's gone.

Time is a grip ever-tightened,
its veins coarse and rough,
and sand fills my lungs in time.
I want to breathe you,
instead of atrophy's climb
crumbling into a sigh;
to rise with your hand in mine.

Comforter

Did you wish that they'd disappear
and just go to hell,
never to return?
Do you wish the sky would open
and endless rain would come,
wash them all away?

It's just like I do
It's just like I feel
It's just like I hurt
It's just like I wished
It's just like I do
It's just like I feel
It's just like I hoped
It's just like I wished

Lilting upward,
and frozen by sight,
a prophet stumbles.

The trees hang low,
breaking their spines
to turn over,
and the road ahead
pulls his inflection
to sink lower.

The waves are always shaking;
bending and breaking, but trembling.

Baobab

Constantly and cyclically erupting and sinking back into a veil of fog.  I feel like I'm way too old already.

I don't push myself to connect with people, but I always seem to be put into the position of absorbing them and understanding them in their own nuances.  I still have trouble expressing myself honestly because I instantly think it won't be understood, so I dance around the words or make something up completely different, as an avoidance mechanism.  A lot of things end up becoming avoidance mechanisms.

And when I reach those breaking points, the veil clears and I can see something different in myself.  Even when you're thousands of years old, you still have growing to do.  And it's no longer a question of ego or being accepted; of finding your place or surviving.  I feel like I can reach closer to myself.  But there's still a lot of distance to go.

Ir(e)on Heart

Flood in
Consume me
My wounds welcome you here
The cold comforts this fall

Flood in
Consume me
Embrace this hull
and carry me

Drifting down
The stars fade away

These new dreams;
I rust and erode here, alone
Alone in the cold

Take me now,
to bury me under your fathoms
To feed on my black iron heart...

The sea and the salt will corrode
and join us together as one
Rust this hull down
Rot my iron into the sands
Dissolve these bolts into the past
Rust this hull down
Rust this hull down
Rest this hull down
Rust this hull down
Rest this hull down

--
Vast and endless,
you are the sea,
calling me against the waves
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