Just like Gabe Just like Matt.

All I want is a little reception
Light fingers, kisses, a little conception
Emancepation from a pity moan,
Xylephone bones, an inhuman groan.

Great. I'm fighting with my head again.
In my mind it's always war when
Violent visions of infedelity
Enroach my brain and sanity.

Millions of other men on Earth,
Eternally waiting to prove my worth.

And have you figured out the sign?

Cunningly hidden in every line.
Lovely that I'm giving so much
Understanding, kindness and love for touch
Empathy now my only crutch.

help.

Help please,
somebody help me.
I can't put words into my desperation, my humiliation at the complication of my character.
I'm writing free so that in these convoluted tales someone can find me.
My heart, made light with tobacco and cannibus continues frienzied and aticipatory beating.
I can't keep my head on straight and my baritone voice is cracking.
I'm reaching out to anyone who reads to find this by chance and identify with an all too common pain.
Compassion is my middle name.
I'm sinking and being pulled by the crushing weight of lonliness.
Sun kissed skin bitten in red and swollen and covered in the wanted marks of lust.
Or to permently keep his memory.
Please, someone reach other and help me.

On Swimming

I'm standing in water that's over my head,
and you're remaining in the shallow end.
Should I keep treading? Trying to stay afloat?
Roll onto my back to drift to where you stand
or do I wait for you to swim out, to grab my hand
....
and fall under the waves with me.

The 5 a.m. City Skyline

God.
You give me such sudden, and violent butterflies.
Taken aback, I'm still riding this adreniline high.
Why?
Oh.
Your kisses are penetrating, and arousing my dreams.
I wake up, you're not there and nothing is how it seemed.
Seems.
Come on.
The way you act and what you say says we're more.
Who exactly are you saving the title for?
Whore.
Me?
Bending over backwards is what everybody knows I'll do.
Wanting to be perfect, and warp myself for you.
You.

The Night I Need To Have

It's a cold bitter sky
that shields us from togetherness tonight.
What I wouldn't give to wake
bare skin brushing against air-cooled blankets
the tiniest muscles at attention
knowing as soon as you saw my eyes flutter
that you would crawl into bed with me to say good morning.
How I miss our title, king and queen
the prince and princess
our pedestal in the eyes of my peers.
You've opened my mind with time-altering experiences,
hyper sensitive and wanting. Hyper focus and heart pounding.
My words aren't poetry, just over drawn hyperbole.
Come back to me.

Operation GSMD

What a night, it's a shame
the way you say my name
sounds sick with the beer drips
sliding down my lips
moral confusion
not so easily cleared.
O, the irony as we play Civil War
which is how I describe
our elegant situation.
You fool me so easily.
I want to believe in
your trust...
but knowing its fed to others like
so many of your lies...
no more.