There is a  slight
remnant of light
peaking through the evading
daytime glow, it casts
a shadow on your iris,
blue & cold.

There is a remnant
of  summer
winds in the cool breeze,
swaying us into
some decadent
daydream.

There is a remnant
And shadow  of
you in my tree lined
view, floating away,
like
you  always do.

So surreal and evading,
Blowing, never remaining,
so surreal and fading,

Like the remnants of
Light, like the remnants
Of our last
Goodbye.

My friendships
Turn to dust
As another date
I said offhand,
I failed to commit
To memory.

Trauma of the past
Has left remnant seeds
Of which I rely on
As a survival instinct
That has driven,
Like roots,
Uncontrollably through
Every friendship I gain.

I forget the most basic
Conversations and things
I’ve said,
But my past,
Made black in defense
Of my ability to move forward,
Shows plainly
That most of it I did not need;
Files have been deleted,
And only frames
Of each have been contrived
To make looking back easier to handle.

I often wish it was not this way,
And find myself apologizing
For a defense mechanism
That has rooted in the very fabric
Of every memory—
Will they ever forgive me?
Will I?—
I hope they don’t see the blank
Canvas that I see.

Will it ever be filled
With anything other than
The coffee stains
That have been left
From when I’ve decidedly
Put off trying
Not to forget?

Or will it be an everlasting
White, that juxtaposes
The darkness I see when I look back?—

It tantalizes me, truly.

I want to understand human purpose ;
The doubtless impaired devotions that deviate from
‘The Human Idea’
There’s something ‘recovered’ that persists in each life
yet
in each life
it is usually
quashed habitually
These purposes are mused from off of the makings of our lives
and
when applied
can become true
unearthed work
a driven propulsion
a ‘*******’ or offering to the ‘Creator Idea’
a truth of an individual view
or
at least
some sort of an approximation.

Breath was exhumed from the corpses
lingering impressions.
   But all were merged beyond
                           the futile emotions of the flesh.

For where reflections were void,
             only true deliberations stigmatized.
                                    Everything of before,
               that  were psychedelic illusions.

Reminiscing of stained windows,
                recently cleansed of the memories of
                                                                ­yesterday.
Only now were remnant fallen dreams buried
                                           beneath falling stars..



                           That crawled like maggots
                                                 in the heavens
burrowing deeper the more they fell...
                And still though falling, there breath still
                                          gasped as death only exhales.

She was an abandoned city
Deserted homes, burnt bridges, empty roads—
A jar of ashes, of stories, of memories
A sanctuary for the forgotten ones

October 1, 2015, Thursday, 10:58PM


It was all I had to say, and it turned out to be nothing that could have made you stay.

If I could turn back time, you know I would've called you mine.

If only I saw to it sooner that it wouldn't have been that bad, you wouldn't be just a remnant of what I could have had.

if i marred your body
with words and rusty knives,
and i peeled your skin with
the burn of every tear you
ever caused me;
would you label the remnants
as scars from our love,
or tattoos you regret?

A shadow of never was rings true in my heart