My notebook is beginning to look as though “the alters” have more than had their way with it in the ongoing months. Stories are scattered and ideas for scripts are laid out. As well are several different stanzas that just seem to originate out of my fragmented thoughts. So I just thought I’d share a few.

He waits for something, though I’m not quite sure.                              Perhaps the moment I need most, my cure. 

What I want, I cannot find.
What I cannot find, I fail to search for.
What I fail to search for I am unaware exist.

The recognition of my own shadow comes bearing some detail.                     If not for my imminent damnation then I’d be, well, in hell.
Rotting away for my heinous crimes; life sentence without parole.
You mean to say there’s worse than living without your own damned soul?

To use the word miss, may not adequately describe
what I best see as an unfortunate divide.
To know you is simple, when I desire much more
Your secrets, your past, your future, your core.

He waits.
I anticipate.
He pierced.
I bleed.
He laughs.
I perish.

He nears as I cannot but feel him there.
Wraps my body with his to combine as one.
Leans down and kisses my neck, “Please don’t be done.”
Turns me around as I look through his eyes,
Your tongue must burn from those wicked lies.

He moves so swiftly and speaks a soft whisper,
that the knife enters slow, yet purposefully.
Without so much of a flinch, I fall into place.
To await my eternity, such bitter-sweet taste.

I can’t help but cave as your touch is truly heaven. 
The way you held your mouth over mine,
breathed a life into me that nearly redefined. 
You clawed at my body as though you fed off its touch.

Miles apart must mean nothing in terms of forever.
How could something like distance even try to measure,
What I can feel in my bones once we’re brought back together.
The Jack to my Sally, simply meant to be, forever.