a risk
for a reward beyond measure,
intangible
to the core,
i feel
more
real than
the illusion
of life
itself.

if it’s just
“a flash in the pan”
then it will all happen
all at once,
and be over
before it
began.

road my bike down to
the jetty,
a portrait of the artist
as a young man in
my pocket.

that you
felt
SOMETHING
at one moment
once
for me
in this life
is the most beautiful thing.

you are enough for me,
cosmic
anomally.

OH
MY
God

sitting
by the
seaside,
i don’t
want
to let go
this feeling
inside.

standing at
the end of
the pier
i watch
a man catch
a fish,
i think of you
and
then i wish.

it was when i was at my loneliest
that it came to me,
and i grew a love for it so vast and true
it became a part of who i am,
a defining aspect of my being;

because i had no one
i turned to the empty page
and gave it everything

i laugh on it,
i cry on it,

i draw blood across it.

build
upon
something
fragile
and
beautiful;
something
that
once built
will never
die
but
grow
stronger,
and stand the test of time
like true art–
like the wonders of the world.

i am a fool
for
having opened
for a moment,
making me
worth
nothing
to you.

stop looking for love outside
yourself
and take care of your health
and know
that no one will ever love you
more than
you,
and if you
dont
love
you,
you’re fucked.

where’d they go?
they’re not where i usually put them.

still searching…
checking pants pockets
from nights before–

there they are you idiot,
hanging inside the lock
outside the door.

and a single
BANG
rang
through
the night
and i waited for
the next shot
but none followed…

probably
just a car backfiring…

but it had that nice solid
BANG
to it
like the pull of a revolver…

no sound of a Volkswagen pulling away after,
just a quiet night,
no screams
no yelling
or subsequent
bangs.

the
rarest rose
of deepest hue

and sharpest thorn,

drawing blood
when
picked.