renaissance man.

dead. she's.

cope. no.

hurts. love.

essie our.

Better better and better

under the blue black night

on top of the world.

Full in spirit not only in physicality.

The feeling of my prickling fingers

not near as they used to be.

My feet are cold, but thawing

day by day.

Wrist rubbing.

Eye thrashing.

Teeth ticking.

A boom boom boom.

Makes me feel like i am swimming,

where everything is fast and soon.

Daydreaming.

Fill little hearts.

Stop and swoon.

essie our.

He is the only one who makes me cry.

Cry. Really cry.

Where my cheeks become puddles then lakes then oceans.

He is the only one who makes me cry.

I love it. I love Him.

Creep. Bells. Chimes. Slow. Slower. Melodic. Gone.  Bang. Combust. Music.

essie our

My pen is a machete

My elbow a button pusher

My spine a curve

My sweater is a bag

My thumb a clasp

My body a pool

My shoe is a soul

My eye a black sheep

My thigh a pillow

My surrounding is a box

My mouth a trap

My heart a universe. 

essie our.

I remember standing on Silverstrand Beach,

looking out across the Pacific; and seeing the end of my world.

I thought about the water.

The lengthy stretch of movement.

It went on forever.  I couldn't think about the land on the other side. 

It was too far, too overwhelming to contemplate. 

But as my eyes squinted and my arms hung at my sides, i thought only of 

the water.

And the movement.

Of my heart.

essie our.