because misery follows me on my heels
latches on and chases me from those whom I touch
let it be know that it will find me for it wants my blood
I just pray that I can keep you from its bitter grip

find a girl who loves books
because she’ll know the tenderness of every letter on a page

find a girl who loves food
because she appreciates the simplest of life’s pleasures

find a girl who loves music
because she understands the frailty and limitations of mere words

find a girl who loves travel
because she is always seeking growth in her mind and soul

find a girl who loves autumn
because she sees the beauty in change and death

find a girl who loves without condition
find her and never let her go

THIS

Oh you~

I remember how the seasons shook their heads
when we showed our disdain for petty time

the scent of sunshine still lingers on your skin
even when the day has come and gone

Oh, devil woman you’ve ruined the writer;
once bittersweet melancholy faded into sunshine
with the curl of your coquettish smile.
Oh, devil woman you’ve left butterflies in his stomach
that scared off the ravens on his shoulders
he doesn’t see the rain for the rain and dirt and grey no more,
he feels it new on his face, fresh like redemption.
Oh, devil woman why did you ruin him-
Oh, you made him love again.

I’d give ten thousand miles of my life on bare feet
to be the wings that lift you off the earth
because a step is a step is a step
but all steps go nowhere unless
they are made in the direction of your soul
and in time to the beating of your heart

just watched The Great Gatsby and thoroughly enjoyed it. mostly because I love the ’20s, Art Deco, decadence and excess, suits, and F. Scott Fitzgerald.

sleep is but sunset for the silent soul,
whom with half a heart loves the mourning pace.
with sunrise the sighing morning comes,
to wake the ghosts of sleep’s embrace.

I am a machine, machination, automaton
built for the purposes of death and war.
but I’ve long outlived my function,
and crumble into a dying heap.

It’s been a lifetime since I’ve seen my face,
under these folds of solder and steel.
but as I lay broken, rusted, wasted;
I keep feeling myself fall apart.

Peel apart these armoured layers, plates lined with rivets
please tell me what lies beneath?
for all these battles have scarred my face and soul; underneath,
am I still a man or now a beast?

there’s a fire in the sheets
hold on to the pillow this bed is burning
magma flows in your veins but
frost creeps over your skin
it’s a fever but you don’t know which way to burn
it’s hot inside but you don’t know which way to burn

my dreams have been torture,
living out the suffering which sleeps in my waking world.
for when I sleep my mind is its own enemy,
flailing about and shouting into the darkness,
answering it’s own cries like a madman in the fields.
still these angry dreams and be at peace,
for I may as well be asleep in death with dreams like these.

the grey smokes from her lips
and wraps an ashen shawl around her neck
how warm she must feel
to have death hold her so close

The greatest mixed blessing in my life
is my ability to remember
everything.
All the equations, her favourite flowers
every little detail, in an instant
everything.
But I fall on my sword in that
sometimes I can’t seem to 
forget.
Nights haunt me years later,
images I can’t escape; I remember
everything.

I was swimming on a bridge of water
stretching over a vast grey ocean.
a submarine hit a barge.
the barge carried a bomb,
fat and swollen, ready to blow.
the bomb sank into the water,
there was a fire, there was a boom.
men in orange ran to the boat,
they all climbed the sinking wreck.
and they all fell down some 30 feet,
and they all screamed when they fell,
and all the boats dove down with a sucking sound,
dragging all those men with them.

my shame is a burden that marks the lines in my face

like shadows in the valley of death

like death is a brutal load to bear on one’s back

it eats me up from the inside out