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Temptation. Desire. You are a sweet, sweet madness. You never fail to inspire. I sat down to write, but the words proved elusive. My thoughts felt like concrete, hard and disillusioned. So I...

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I think of you every night. Your body. Your kiss. Your softness. Your grit. For years I’ve spent my free time imagining you. So many moments. Thinking of you. With me. Wild and without restraint...

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I feel that I have been trapped beneath glass, capable of looking out and seeing. Screaming, at times, but my voice contained coolly and completely. A witness to unspeakable things, and all the w...

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It’s another moment to breathe. Another motive to believe. Allow for development, a heightening of the senses, without restriction by the sentiment of who you are marrying who you can be. And s...

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Chemistry Tonight I am chemical free, but so far from you and me, and I have no hope of possibility to ever so eloquently confess to be the proud man that I used to be that enthralled you so eff...

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Tell me sorrow Thy own true name The howling winter withers Seeks marks to blame Disparate fellows Relations stripped and strained The candle mourns; flickers And you are gone again Only truth,...

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It’s November 11th. Make a wish, y’all.

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I’ll never get over you. I cannot stop thinking about you.

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I write sonnets in my mind of moments we’ll never know, looks we’ll never share, and a love – while perhaps the most tantalizing of my life – that shall forever smolder quietly rather than rage b...

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She sleeps with secrets Ghosts of lovers She never had Her tongue creases Soft lips of crimson A wicked instrument Devouring the courage Of hardened sex – The wills of lustful men She bathes with...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from the only things you see or feel when you close your eyes, and you let it dream.. “Jazz Beats” Windows wreathed in iron Wrought and corded cold Therein lie...

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“Circuits of the Past” Some days feel like circuits of the past. And the cosmic interface we all aspire to master feels less like a resolution to the inner machinations of our souls and more a de...

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I don’t write much here, but you gotta work those muscles, don’t you? Today’s a special day in history. In exactly one week I become much, much older. I wonder if anyone will ever think I’m as ol...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from whom you should trust the most, yet they prove worthy the least.. “Born From Misgiving” Oh, bittersweet starlight Are you back for a new bite? Sparkling w...

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There are moments in time that I think are meant just for you. As if the entirety of them since our branches grew long and stretched far enough that our vines inexorably entangled us have not bee...

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Feathers. I write of you. I write of you when I remember just how long it has been since we were tethered in our nightly rendezvous. Tangled within the numbers of one-on-one at times in oppositio...

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It has been a very, very long time since I have been this centered personally and crashing forward with spirited vigor despite the myriad trespasses life inevitably bestows. With that said, I hav...

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She whispers oh so soft at night Rephrasing my sins in her active mind Still, she keeps on Keeps on Keeps on playing With my life And I wonder if I ever saw you right Spoke with the girl I thoug...

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Stark white walls line the memories we would have made. Blank canvases that call me when the night refuses escaping. And I feel like I am rushing back to the moment when we almost had a this. Som...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from setting the record straight, when trying to quietly be the better person seems to only entitle the madness and encourage the veritable thievery of the leg...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from hating this place, but needing to always stay true to yourself and sincerity – the desperation for authenticity – and so I still write.. “Your Suffering” ...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from late night encounters and the ways in which she will change my always.. “Rumi’s Daughter” Rumi’s daughter The seventh wonder Her heart drawn with a flame ...

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2 She has a strawberry halo And a delicate silhouette She speaks with her hands Full of happiness And she shows no regret Her mind is her salvation Though it gets little respect And her body is a...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from playful mockery… “The Art of Instagram” When I first met you, my fingers had little feeling. My hands were cracked and bleeding. Too many grains of sand ...

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And sometimes the inspiration comes from the echoes of angels from memories made and hard wishes for them to forever color the sky.. “My Fevered Sky” There’s a picture on my wall And it holds wit...

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