i must have been a hero
in my previous life.
i must have battled evil,
had courage in the face of strife.

maybe i was a saint,
and blessed everyone in sight,
took care of those who lost their way,
showed them how to find the light.

or maybe i was a freedom fighter,
a peaceful one, of course.
maybe I died helping people escape
from war and military force.

i must have done something great
to deserve what i have now.
i've been blessed with your love, angel,
and i'm not sure why or how.

people like you only come along
every thousand years at best,
but the universe put you in my arms
so i must have been a hero, i guess.

evening loneliness arrives at dawn
and knocks on the dusty windowpane

in the kitchen, i lie — with threadbare arms —
against the shabby wooden cupboard frame

this house is void of all electricity
except for the light bulbs, the fridge, the T.V.

and my steady-beating heart of rhythmic defeat
lying naked across the tear-stained sheets

if you come home and find that i am dead,
perhaps some ***** dishes fell on my head

but most likely, i'll be, in the living room gloom
with a half-drunk bottle of wine to consume

with emergency flares tied to both wrists,
i'll leave you a smile, a sigh, and a kiss

he's
tripping, but not
coerced by gravity;
rather a Molotov cocktail of
endorphins lobbed straight at his
prefrontal cortex.
some find this
distasteful,
some find it
deplorable;
god help me,
I find it adorable.
(it's the only time he'll
admit he loves me)

i want to feel the rush,
the tingly fireworks under my skin,
the buzzing sparks of awakeness.
i want to feel the bubble burst in my chest.
i want to dance. i want to ride the music
like a rollercoaster,
i want the thrill of the next drop,
the next wave of euphoria
pulsating through my veins
like electric current conducted by
all the goings-on around me
i want your energy and my energy
mixing together in the air around us
like a glittery galaxy milky-way aura,
a sanctuary of our own vibrations,
a place where our hearts are huge
and our egos small.
a place of peace, of love,
of unity, and respect,
of higher elevations
and acceptance for all.
can't we just do drugs?

when the night comes silently
and all the world is asleep and still,
when the minutes and seconds
are suspended and slowed down
and the city becomes a whisper,
that is when i wake up.
night time is my time
to feel, to cry, to think, to write,
to be myself, by myself,
on my own terms.
by day i am a walker,
a zombie, a nothing,
just waiting
for the lights to go out.
in the darkness, i am
a beacon of light.

in darkness i am the light.