My heart frightens me...

My heart frightens me...the way it wants...the way it craves; the way it encompasses all and how it slaves to be sated. Its perpetual voracity and endless capacity to beat in time and stop on a dime.

Its ceaseless yearning to consume is startling.  Its gluttonous appetite is always starving.  Pangs and aches carving through its chambers with surprising rapidity.

It harbors a sacred silence that only desire can know and abhors its deafening cries that denial provokes.

It's a living breathing thing.  It takes up space in my bed.  It gets in the way of my every day. It breathes and sighs.  It swoons and cries.  It fucks with my head.

My heart frightens me...Fuck it, I should just stab it with a fork.

Wasted days...

Wasted days in want and malaise. Lost in a haze of your breath your kisses are like tiny deaths...freeing and relieving of all earthly care.

A descent to ascend beyond worldly parallels.  I fell into hell to breathe fire in heaven and ride a dark horse on this carnal carousel.

I can't find my way home yet I'm tucked in my bed.  Running around inside my head, I am lost in the tall grass, chasing a phantom with my inhibitions shed.

The sadness that builds as I drift in your gaze I can't hide. With time lost on the wings of dreams we glide and wander to meet in this maze of wasted days in want and malaise.

Unraveled...

Every time I write I slowly come undone.  Unraveling on a page from a beautiful handmade cable-knit, crafted by some old woman who lives in a small cabin on the jagged coast of Ireland, to a tangled distressed gnarl of yarn on the floor waiting to be swept.

But my lust for life and love keeps the broom at bay.  And so at the end of every day the old woman picks me up and straightens me out.  Wrapping me around her withered hand she relieves my knots and makes me smooth and workable again.  Then by some miracle of sheer love or luck I get rewoven into some new masterpiece.

Only to come unraveled when I hit a snag the next day.  

Nothing's there...

As I lay dreaming thoughts of you are streaming in a cloud like smoke. Unprovoked my mind wanders down the length of you and back again.  

Drinking your lips and inhaling your breath.  You make erect the hairs on my neck when your mouth nears my ear.

Whispering promises brings hope.  On a slippery slope we tread lightly hands clasped around noose and rope with our lips locked tightly.

I search my memory for your grin.  I can't wait for this to end and for us to begin.  Writhing around in my bed with your name on my lips I sniff the air for the scent of your skin but nothing's there.

I am...

I am the ground that bears your weight,
and the sun around the world rotates.

I am rivers on which heavy loads float,
and the flames that ash the letters you wrote.

I am air in your lungs that breath makes,
and the sky that yields thunderous quakes.

I am the food on your plate. You can eat me, 
and the lover in your bed come complete me.

I'm the bone that needs picking, your fingers that need licking, 
and that god awful clock in your head that keeps ticking.

I'm not complicated. Just frustrated,
and too honest to be anything but alone.

I am home.