the walk

Since my words aren't flowing, I'll borrow these.
Yup, that's about right.

I really need to start writing again.

faith

If my faith was (is) based in fear
then I had (have) no faith at all.

"The individual person is responsible for living his own life and for finding himself. If he persists in shifting his responsibility to somebody else, he fails to find out the meaning of his own existence.” -Thomas Merton

soul-searching

12:36am

Stream of consciousness, words and thoughts.
Nothing removed for truth lives here.
I adore and love and that is all.
Fuck time-tables and biological clocks
and logic and reason and what-I-should-do.
Fuck that, and fuck you too.
I love him, at least that much is true.

untitled (2)

A near paralytic in this absence of light
I lost my eyes, and fell through the dark

untitled

Possessing a quiet, secret love
muffled by silence of sleep.
Eyes darkened, eclipsed golden suns.
Simple warmth in which to crawl
curled fetal, enveloped by twin orbits.
Still desiring his touch
held underwater in slippery hands.
And his easy words they melted her
so few and far between.
Into a drowning, milky puddle
of hopefullness and a scant few tears.
Perhaps the beginning was their curse.
Salvation lied (she hoped) in their soft love.
Yet, no Savior did he prove to be
That starlit sky was not her heav'n,
and shared breath is weakening.
So in the blossoming morning dawn,
swollen lips should breathe their last.
Until the next, the next, and next
Where the warmth becomes sole comfort
Crafty blanketed tortures, blinked back
Just to breathe together (together)
In and out, weakened by each lisping gasp
While the slowness creeps cold and still.