zebrasindenver

Messages sent into the void

no replies

no words

just the silence

and the waiting

i wait

silent

There can be no method to this madness

can i not just be mad, evil, and loving

having been and had

i am the dictator of hearts

and the dark forgotten art of madness is my prose

to love is madness

and to be loved is

well, mad

the souls should travel through the night

as love dies in long days

i am my own worst mystery

and your best feature

The distance is barely a heartbeat,

and the pain of loving but merely a scratch,

but to have lost a friend to another’s world

is what will wound the soul.

What to expect from those we have loved since  we were children,

how to coin a phrase of childhood expectations of future,

we pass the rocks and our sails flap in time forged winds,

we played and now we live alone, aside the time that passes,

you were my brothers and now my memories,

the trees we climbed and the stones we threw at panes adjacent the train tracks,

BMX’s and broken arms full of grazed knees and chocolate milk,

 a peanut butter sandwich and your mothers sweet smile for all of us.

the days of endless rides, and the beach floor so hot,

a childhood of all the sweet everything, and everything becoming so complicated,

dreams die, and memories fade, but when i am at the door i shall knock louder if i remember your address far away,

kids we were, and we should never forget.

Crazy broken flower,

Dry hearted dog,

and an eternity of love songs that we will write.

As i sit here remembering the times i will live, and forgetting the mistakes i shall make,

Thinking of those i shall share these times with, and oh how i will never remember, till now.

Till it is too late,

Till yesterday,

And forever before.

I write only of love and passion these days,

what else is there?

There is friendship you say, but then again,

how long till this becomes passion,

and then hate, or worse,

love.