On avoidance

Everyday I think about it Wonder how full it is.
 Of communication intercepted
 By my own inability To accept my life.
Bringing it inside means It belongs to me.
 They have reached me,
With an expectation of response.
Pretending you do not exist
Means I owe you nothing.
Sometimes I see you
 And I put you back.
Save you for tomorrow or the next day.
Sometimes I just drive right by you
Fuck it. You're just junk anyway.

I'm wearing your t-shirt

Last night...
Every star in the milky way
(not the candy bar)
melted together like
plate tectonics it is reverse pangea
in my heart.
The real me inside was
doing backflips all the way
to the ones reaching out
to galaxies i cant remember the names of
that hold the stars
I used to be.
This must be home.

Finally, off the restriction
of my planetary body.
It is so fucking bright.
The contrast between
the nothingness of space
and the everything I feel here
this must be...

I don't want to say love
because it sounds cheap
stale, and vapid.
What they call egos
caught in manipulations
for the temporary relief
from the deficiency of one
stolen from another.

We are different.
An explosion of transparency-
clear, incorruptible, awakened, brilliant.
I cannot hold this for myself.
My ego hates this taste.
It refuses to feed the darkness
humans must posses.
It is the mingling of the ethers...
beyond the senses and
the contents of my body.

I need you to feel it too.
I need to make you glow
to strip your ego with my touch
so you can experience our light.
Physicists can try but this cannot
be contained by scientific formulas.
Because it started before them...
but I know this "love"
is what started the stars.

Written without a thesaurus

It was stamped on my brain

In between yesterday 

And the tomorrow before.

Filed away as useless

Perhaps it was.

Still it flashed through 

Like the moment you die 

Memories Chopped up

Thrown like confetti 

Rearranged with

snowflake Uniqueness

And frozen precision.

You're Vaguely obvious.

I've been here before.