I think of him

The roughness of his hands

The softness of his beard

The warm, golden glow of his skin

The way his body fit mine perfectly

I think of conversations we had

The calming sound of his voice

The easy, unfiltered joy of his laugh

I think of the ridges of his belly

The firmness of his biceps

The sweetness of his kiss against my lips

I think of him, always

But it's hardest at night....

I want him back, I want him home

I miss him

Spiraling in colors and random

Letters, words fill my sleepless 

Endless nights.

I think of patterns,

Polka dot spots of happiness in our

Darkened life of despair.

Random images of past places I've been,

Of lives I have lived...

Wondering how much longer I can stay.

My soul speaks to my demons in these wee hours,

Plotting, planning for the future I'm too 

Scared to begin.

Pictures of dreams encapsulated by sparks of

Random desire to run 

Freedom beckons, words fill my mouth and eyes

I struggle to pen them, only to find

They remain hidden in the night.

     Sometimes its nothing, you know...just space enough to fit the world in, other times its everything to the tiny sound in the street. When you reach that point were you need to tell your mind to keep quite please so you can get some sleep ... please stop talking? but your the only one in the room ? short of you losing your mind...

     Mum, dad, sisters, him... life, purpose, the future, it can even be the depth of my favorite Jon bellion song or the fact that things irritate me so easily. How many things I need to get done... and then its morning. 

Breathe in, 

Breathe out.

Breathe in,

Now breathe out again.

Take one more breath in,

And now release it back out.

Now close your eyes, and sleep.

No.

No? What do you mean no?

No, I need to think about everything.

Everything, really?

Yes, EVERYTHING.

But, but why? Why can’t you just slow down and sleep in peace? You’re so tired, and your day’s been so long…

Because now is my only time to think clearly about EVERYTHING. In the dark, in the quiet. No interruptions between the conversation of me, myself and I. I can let my mind explore the deepest, most inner thoughts of myself…

Or about how you feel flat on your face in front of that cute guy at work today.

… Maybe I’ll just go to sleep.

That’s what I thought.

There has to be more than this.

Will I ever achieve true bliss.

Can I mend things, or get that kiss.

Everyone and everything I miss.

More often than not I remimince,

Sometimes I smile or grimace.

Bad thoughts are what I try to dismiss,

While I try to figure what's amiss.

Eventually I'll fall asleep,

And sink into a silent abyss.

Is this all life holds 

For me now  

Living from day to night 

Jumping on the latest 

Thing that brings contentment 

Breathing in the noxious 

Fumes of midnight  

Distressing recollections 

Teaming up with ghosts 

To haunt me 

In the darkness 

Of my own room 

Here I lay 

Just wishing for 

The sun to rise 

To be saved from 

My worst enemy 

To be saved 

From myself  

Things I Should've done

Things I Should've Said

Things I Should've Ate

Things I Shouldn't of Ate

Things I'm Going to Do

Things I'm Going to Say

Things I'm Going to Eat

Things I'm not going to Eat

Places I'm not going to go

Places I'm planning to go

Then Darkness

Then Sleep

Then Morning

Then Night And Repeat

It all starts with the blasting discoveries of medical science: they now say it is legal to cross different species to run genetical testing...to find the cure for what? unicorns? bigfoot? Other mythical creatutures we might want to investigate? We don't merely know how an alligator differs from a fish, and why we are not allowed to eat it during fast days as a replacement.

And then it hits me: while monkeys will be eventually trained to adapt to telepathic communication, humans will be texting it in hashtags to develop from mental and egomaniacal stimuli via twitter or facebook.

We will then seek the privilege to copulate with such a fine exponent of the close related species, and be endowed in the sacred noble art of looking at each other with no restriction of time or value derived from scarcity. And scratch each other's back.