Untitled #57

The clouds in my eyes

are the leftovers from the storm in my heart

that sends howling winds through the empty crevices of my bones.

My words are stained glass windows

altering the truth

changing with the light from 

your eyes. 

I hold onto the hopes

that you're blind to the reality

that hides in the abyss within me,

the deep sea of amorphous visions

that I drown in 

is the exact ocean of thought 

where I sail on without direction

looking for my northern star 

that is constantly in the darkness. 

My thoughts linger around you,

and through you,

and in you,

basking in your essence

knowing this is not real. 

I let my imagination

loiter in your image,

a distraction from the reaction of the world.

My feelings become too heavy

to be contained by the strings that 

attach our broken hearts together.

Lonely lovers 

following a faded map to nowhere

craving the taste of adventure 

on their lips that have crossed so many paths

but not the right one,


not yet.