Dead Weight Bliss

Burning, burning ground beneath me as sunstroke creeps in

Blisters forming, how they sting, but not compared to where I’ve been


Yearning, yearning for the chance to see you again

Yet I was dismayed when I stepped back on this terrain


Spurning, spurning me away before we could even meet

Spiting me despite my efforts and insisting I retreat


Turning, turning back seems pointless when I’m come so far, still

Treason knows no mercy and warrants no explanation nor goodwill


Learning is a never-ending voyage, and this is just another lesson

Living expeditiously because it must be destined


I’m adjourning this chapter now and will have no regrets

For I’ve many homes before and will soon find the next.

Till I’m Dust

I will be here till I’m dust.

My hands will wither.

My feet will prune.


My hair once lush and soft

shall fall and mix with seaweed.

My tears will crystalize


to be carried off as trinkets for seagulls

impressive to them; not enough to attract the one

I want most.


When my eyes no longer open

my body shall mold into the soil.

I will be here till I’m dust.


It is not all sunshine and roses.

We should know better by now.

Yet we still fall for the trap


the oldest and most bittersweet.

There is no first sight; that’s a lie.

There’s no way of knowing


until you find yourself in its grasp.

There is an alluring aroma,

within the claws, sticky and thick.


Then there’s the taste

that leaves you craving, never quite sating.

You choose a favorite flavor.


There is no question of why

we keep going back for seconds

willingly clogging our arteries.


The confusion only sets in after it hurts

and the realization hits that it is you

That has been consumed.

Two Artists

Two artists on the street

I am aware of her presence

She is unaware of me

She displays her craft for all to see

strumming her heart along guitar strings,

dressed in black and creating melodies

She carries a small amp in her hand

a burden upon her travel plans?

Would she understand if she saw me now

writing my observance

Would it cause her disturbance

to know that she has inspired me?

Love Too Hard

My problem is that when I love

I love too hard

What’s dear becomes sacred

Fondness escalates to devotion

Yearning is an ache

Adoration never without dedication

Passion always full, never in rations

Once the taste is developed

no other flavor will ever do

My attachment swallows me whole

leaves me consumed

I love too hard