I write this from beyond

If my hands could
Touch
Your skin
Right now
And fly miles across
To you
It would
Drip
Down
like Honey
and Soft kisses
just to sweep
along
with
a sweet brush
From tips o' fingers
And softly soothe unto you
A hush
a whisper
a song
Of sweet melody
And
We would fall in love
and into
One another
Beyond skin
Beyond bone
Our Beating hearts
Could only feel
we you and me
both
together again
to fall
To form
Onto
into and in between
the loveliness
of loving you
you love me
as we fly past
and cry past
And die
at last we are Together
as we melt
Sweet kisses
And soft skin
And begin
Again
Like lovers
Do
Like me and you
words and time
the scent And song could never touch
us Like we have touched
One another
and Each others heart
and soul
Like no one else
ever
Again

10:38 pm flow

found myself
alone
but not
i guess sometimes
that's where i have to be
cause the brain and
the heart
don't always
go
right along with
that of others
so in sync
in sync out
i fall all about
this and that
is
and is not
where
it's at
what is it
what it is not
my thoughts
get caught
up in the
mix
i need a fix
cause i'm going down ;)
you don't have to call me
tonight
tomorrow
or ever
if you never
do anyways
you don't have to be around
cause then i know you won't won't on your own
your ghost is all
i've ever known
the only thing that's shown
is the
fade
out and in
again
i need a lot tonight
but not from you
not from anyone else
but me will do
i find comfort in the facts thrown at me
that i don't even care to hear
but you care to say
i know i'll miss it
and you someday

the ghost of my friends

This is not a prison.
This is a trap.

I am the bait.

___________________________________________________________

Having balls is a good thing
having raw passion is a good thing and a rare thing.
To have both passion AND balls is what makes someone great.

I miss the great ones
I miss the lovers
and the dreamers/creators
I miss the artists
I miss the tortured souls- the poets...the journeymen ...
and I mean the real ones
the real risk takers
the real love makers
the ones that do what they were born to do
unafraid of being who they really are
the ones that live for what they love
and the ones that love to love.
it has nothing to do with image
and everything to do with heart and soul
and pure being
I miss the truth in them
I miss their passion
I miss having them around
I miss them knocking at my bedroom window at 3am
driven by desire
driven by love
and...That feeling -
that wonderful feeling of hope and wonder
and the excitement in life and love

I miss the fire