The evening horizon swirls pink, blue
and greys,

the greys I know, but

the others taunt me
with their pleasantry.

Forlorn shadows stretch out to form
a path aside,

familiar,

yet here I stand
in the foreign glow
of a failing sun,

waiting...

an empty bowl ( Read more... )

the noon sun is black ( Read more... )

a temporary blindness ( Read more... )

I'm not ready for you to leave ( Read more... )

I am Pikea ( Read more... )

where would I be without you
love of mine?

two odd shaped things
clanging together to make
their own sort of music

growing smooth and tuned by the churning.

I need not run anymore...
you are my logcabin in the wilderness

we ascend on an intrapersonal tumble...
will you forever do a little stumble dance with me?

the words came overflowed and tumbled out ceaselessly thought after thought like rain and sunshine at once
...and then, they just...stopped. all at once. no more words. only in my head. only to myself. and not really words.

I tell myself no
I tell myself not to

I say "be quiet, don't do it! it will just open you up..."
but I do anyway
I don't listen at all: an urge to just be free and say fuck it! I'm me!!

heartache is a part of life.
and rejection is inevitable...

besides, how else would I know those that love me?

how did I find you?
or did you find me...

like turning over stones in the creek,
to find the smoothest, most interesting
to have in my pocket
for the walk home.