You deserve love, softness, understanding.

The only justification that matters is the one we make to ourselves.

She said the words As if he could help having them Derail him in every possible way. Mentally. Physically. Spiritually. As if his heart hurried home to stay.

So, as the nights Begin to cool For better sleeping Weather Evenings of open air Hardwood crackling Fires that tether You to me Whiskeys in hand Taking our time To make the other understand.

She makes these revelations, like I have any other option than to believe. How a goddess influences her worshippers is blind faith, the likes of which never seen.

The moral of the story No matter how gory Have faith in what you know.

Left with the nagging question, “What would Buckethead do?”

There is nothing like the exhaustion of a worn out soul.

Being an ignorant, nasty Canadian, what the fuck is the holdup on impeachment?

She was, after all Simplicity in words, Poetry in motion.

A deep yearning that rolls on It overtakes everything as it goes All logic and reason dissolve Boundaries and inhibitions fall And we’re on our way, unstoppable Towards each other, me and you.

Be the villain on your own terms, be true to yourself, that’s where the depth lies.

The language of touch is what I'm fluent in.

It might not be wise The underestimating Of this hunger That I’m holding back. When we get to be In close proximity My cool facade will crack. I’ll have to be Hands on you see My self control Will fall weak The only thing that Will ease these pangs Is the flesh my soul seeks.

I’ve been here three times, and can never forget the feeling that gravity was somehow stronger, the air a bit thicker and ominous feeling of how much loss happened here. #911memorial #NeverForget

You have no idea What I can do She said With a wicked grin Oh my love I’ve an idea or two As my right hand Gripped The tip of her chin.

Twin flames that burn the same No matter time or distance. They follow the flow they’ve always known That path of least resistance.

Soft and dreaming things that take shape when we aren't looking.

How about we make a plan, plot a course between points A and B. We could find a place in time, on common ground to take all the time we need. Good food and drink, hand in hand, moments to think. Sharing hopes and dreams and in betweens, what makes our hearts soar or sink.

I don’t care if we’ve had differences, become estranged or anything else. If I’ve ever known you at all and you reside in the U.S.A. I fear for you.

A rarity Of sleeping Past eight Close contact Lingering moments Now coffee To remain Intact.

So much greatness.

evergreen

Daydreams and nocturnal emissions at the thought of your accent a long my skin, into my ear. Up close. Personal, and intimate;

One of those days When it’s nearly too hard To catch my breath. Where each thing I touch No matter of intention Just seems to turn to shit. Is this what a panic attack feels like, Or is it just time to quit?

Is there something Fundamentally Broken inside a mind When two portraits Foster lustful Scenarios imagined When aligned In a recurring manner Inexplicably side by side;

What to do When self Annoyance Cues The trigger That I have liked Every single Post you’ve laid My compulsion Reveals itself Out of spite. The admission Must be surely made One hungers For so much more Something more Than tangible To find out what Might be in store.

His lips meet The soles of her feet As he slides Slowly in Is it a certain Act of worship Or the beginnings Of greater sin;

One ponders Late at night Does she know She was the catalyst And the cure as well. The only remedy To ease the pain Of how he fell.

To be together in a most intimate setting so that we might unleash each others’ inner pervert;

I could tell You all After all But then What would Be the point In that?

When I think you As I often do I find I need to take the time To write these thoughts Out in some way On paper or where convenience lies. They’re thoughts of love and lust Poignant acts of real life. There are a few songs That come to mind on repeat That brings me back, to you.

The whys don’t matter anymore

Sometimes you only want to be unforgettable to one person.

Things we’d dare, moments we’d share if only dreams came true.

The longer one looks Pays real attention The greater lengths I’ll go To know more To know better, more intimately, Further down the rabbit hole.

My lips have been waiting For centuries now it seems To plant kisses along your brow, To find the magic in between.

No blasphemy better than creating our own religion;

You see, these aches have your name written all over them;

The chemistry of you and me Together is bound to be A glorious, volatile reaction.

As the veil slowly thins, The magnetism your throat invokes Upon my mouth is has increasingly less resistance.

When one butchers The heart of another One should not be shocked With the monster One may discover.

There’s nothing quite like Worship and blind faith Falling on deaf ears Before complacent eyes.

In the forest, now Along the path Moss and dirt Pillow up Between my toes. The rain rolls in Beads off my chin In you I’m soaked To the bone. You claimed I’d lied Part of me died Now it lies behind My ribs, still and cold.

When the mind Learns the lessons The heart has No intention Of adhering to.

To reach out far enough or not, Is there a point if my relevance to you is something gone to rot;

It warms my heart When I see All four existing In harmony. Unconditional love Mutual respect I watch from the sidelines No need to interject.

Sanity is not a place Where the cool kids hang out.