It’s you not Me

I see
I hear
Do you see her
Drink about to spill?
Do you hear that
Hushed conversation meant only for lovers?
I see
Too much
I focus
On the experiences of others
Fear of who I am
I concentrate
On everything else
Drown out the voices
You will never be as good as them.

Precious Embers

Life begins with a though. A spark a flame then faster burns the blinding birth an awakening the consumption of fuel wood is stacked upon dwindling ashes until the heat has served its purpose
the embers linger then extinguish and ashes mark the spot where once we made our fire.

Cosmic dreams

Blank frames of open lullabies descending  
without knowing shapes ascending
 into the heavens peacefully darkening
 memories gone by stars exploding
 till into her arms warmth increasing
leaves pain itself decreasing