What is love

What is love

Not a question really, more of a statement


His hands roughly massage the arch of my bare right foot

He does it because he loves me, he does it because he wants to make me feel good, relax, at ease

He does it because he is a beautiful soul who cares more about his wife than anyone or anything else

And he would do it forever, without having to be asked


The feelings of love, that have grown from small sprouts of attraction into stalks of the deepest bond

Eternal, life-devouring, my other half

Some search their whole lives to find this or feel a fraction of it on any given day


On this Tuesday night, I am unapologetically drowning in it

I never want it to fade, we never want it to subside

All I can be is thankful for him

Diligent in loving him back

Careful to never take it for granted.


I do not want for with you

Want for more

Want for others.


You surround my existence

Rather, you define my existence

by truly being

my everything.


Every part of love that I could ever need

Every part of a perfect day

that has us in it, together.



Rightfully disconnected fear

Severed membrane surrounding bloodied tears

Incandescent lighting is a must

Slowly, painfully rolling onward towards dusk.


Sadly mistaken for someone dead

I think I feel like crawling towards that nine foot bed

For it is there that I can rest my swollen head

as I and we struggle to remember a handful of ignorant things said.


The glow of night and screaming ambulances rush on

Over four inches of snow, slush, salt and slime.

Steam sizzles over streets, sidewalks, someone else’s wet feet

Drinking coffee, pull the shades over my comfy sheets.


Hang your head out of the window and shout through the stale winter air

Consciousness return to me and this pen I shall spare.


Roller coaster over the hills of a desolate plain

Realistic, dreary yet genius you could never remain.

Why must I lie here with half-dry sweat pants?

To me this life isn’t worth breathing without another chance.


Drive my car without seeing the lines ahead

Hoping someone like you may deliver me into morning

Because smoking my lungs into oatmeal came without warning.

Painting, attempting to create your personal version of Candyland

In hopes of living the dreams of a life spent mainly on sand.


To all those that have come before me – thank you for the history.

Burn the mystery

Class isn’t worth it

The way I feel when I waste my ending time is equivalent to a dimly lit dark pit.


And a message to the many new souls about to be spouted into life:

Be happiness in sunshine, clear water, red light.

See the day as the answer to the question too many forget

Don’t give into the cycle, never roll over, not yet, never yet.


Weaving a hater miracle only because you’re told to see the light

If you tell them to not turn left

They will eventually go right.

Resist the advertisement of thousands gone wrong

Smiling as I laugh, the people will always hurry on.


A lonesome car parks speedily at the emergency room lot

Rushing to save a life that seems necessary, maybe not.


I see the masses whisper and wonder and worry

I also see the anxiety, the misfortune, unneeded scurry

Some have thought, wondered and most always will

Am I the one that finally saw it

or am I the one looking for a cheap thrill?


Order clothes, buy food, eat, sleep, drink

Be merry, get married

I plan to spend my life out of the cave that appears rather buried.

Away from the capitalist, economist, greedy FUCKS

Content with myself, born with steady luck.