Broken hearted.

I always thought the term "Broken heart" was a bit dramatic. Or maybe its simply because my imagination surfs within the glade like mind of a 7 year old. Hearing the term "broken heart" my mental automatically rushes like guttered water, envisioning a dark spaced hole and in the midst of loneliness, a heart peacefully hovers. It sways as Miles Davis hums a intoxicating "Blue in Green" from the invisible speakers that sing so sweetly. And then... an arrow, that has traveled many miles pierces its tip into the center, forcing crack lines to splatter in directions unknown like a window shield treat unkind. Ripping veins, erasing smiles, disregarding hope and sheltering trust from the light... It shatters into one million and thirty two pieces of memory and heart gas. Gas that leaks into the pits of that black hole just to be set afire when the fire of desire kicks in. The oxygen from the heavy pants sends the pressure to your throat like a window of a burning building. & then it happens... You cry & you announce that your heart has been broken.

See, my imagination is out of control because of course the visual doesn't happen, but what i do know is, that's how it feels.

Sugar, Spice, and everything Gold.

Black.

Coral.

Grey.

Light grey.

Goldenrod light.

Light beige.

& white

Are the 7 colors that make up my rainbow. A healthy treasure sits, dazzling at the end of this rainbow in a shined deep black pot, nursing a very vigorous cluster of sugar and spice, and everything nice; Gold. Sitting at the end of my colorless rainbow, my gold sits in a clear bullet proof case, unapproachable.

Imagine, traveling many miles while sleep walking, for I do not accept ‘tis reality. For all I’ve known has now disappeared with the suns shine and the winds kiss. For all I’ve known now has no meaning for its color tells no story, and its value has decreased because of my greed. Passion is now undervalued because of my gluttony.

The thought of bathing in my lust, I close my eyes and smeared imagery of silk skin appears. In a blurred distance, I recognize an X to the left, which marks my final destination. Spinning swiftly in the right direction, there is Life, sitting, smiling, and waiting for me, ever so patiently. Ever so beautiful.

My pale world is replaced with cotton candy clouds hovering marshmallow hills, when I close my eyes. The wind sings foreign melodies in perfect harmonies, all while the sun smiles its joy down. Smother me in sweet kisses I ask, juicer than the blackest berry, softer than hearts of lovers. Haul me in a hovering motion into its direction of bliss, however, when my eyes slowly depart, reality of my dull new found humanity reappears and there are no birds chirping, no smiling flowers and certainly no sugar and spice. No gold, no you.

How do I get it back? Must I change the ways I’ve become so set into? Cut the veins that circulate my cursed blood of greediness, mystery and clever deceitful behavior. Where to begin?

Color my world grey and shield my gold and here I am, begging for forgiveness. However, I am unsure if it’s simply, I miss the shine of the eye and pleasure of owning something as pure as such or if I’ve grown into something vindicated as of now. Such a clever lad I’ve grown to be…

Walking in footsteps already taken, I redirect my mission, not for gold, but to simply enjoy a colored soulful world. Indulge myself in those marshmallow hills and cotton candy clouds again, longing for more then treasures, but happiness. Roaming this quest, will not only damage my feet, but is capable of injuring my soul, my pride and reputation. Understand; miles for me are mere steps for you that I am willing to protract for its treasure that sits at the end of my journey. Sitting, smiling, and waiting for me ever so beautifully.

With each step taken towards change my world begins to brighten, one strain at a time, growing colorfully beautiful. Imagine, traveling many miles while sleep walking, transitioning with every mile, and when every particle has been renewed in your body, and your feeling refreshed…..

…..you look up and you’ve reached your gold. Sitting, smiling, and waiting for you ever so patiently.

An Untitled Tale.

I remember when I decorated my bathroom. Chastity was pure. Chastity was my only possession. I cherished nothing more but Chastity. This room…

The room I’m in at this moment reminds me of my bathroom; only, my bathroom was Ikea influences. Wash cloths assembled with designer fuzzy white floor mats and white hand-dry towels (that were never to be used) hung from titanium silver hedges. This room I’m sitting in is white as well. Four walls, a ceiling and a floor: All white. Yes there’s a door, however, it is red, and poorly aligned to properly meet the desire of being placed as a center piece of Wall 1, if that’s not too much to add. I can’t help but to think while sitting, staring in a gaze at this off centered door...underneath the final coating of paint; deeper into the wood frame design was a plan of perfection. And to think, one asshole fucked it all up, not to mention didn’t care to fix it. I bet he used his Big hammer, along with an impressive educational background and degree in this source field, prepping for this very moment. For he is in fact, the master of measuring and correctly assembling door frames, according to his diploma. Funny to know that a person who’s profession relies on detail, could fuck up so royally. As I sat, gazing at the gold knob on the fucked up red door, in this white room, I finally realized, I was trapped like a mime. Trapped within the Walls of 1, 2, 3 and 4, but mostly, trapped within a mind of insanity that I refuse to admit as my own. Needless to say, a mime may pity me. For I have no plan to escape, I have no desire to monitor these walls in search of the secret hot spot that ultimately releases me into the world to live forever free without a sound. So scratch the mime comparison all together, I feel as though I’m locked away inside a coffin, breathing through an oxygen tank to relieve life throughout the scene of death. Mr. Mime, no need to pity me.

In my bathroom, I would sit in the corner of Wall 2 and write memories into memory holders. I could never remember days, only recollections of moments that will never channel again. Funny how that works. Memories, I mean. I can not tell you exactly what textile I pranced around in that day, however, my mind can vividly recall the moments that were the sweetest, word for word, second for second. Or maybe only the moments I wish to bear in mind.

As I sit in my corner of my new white room in corner 2, I can’t help but to think of my Chastity. However, interrupting my thoughts, the doors red has begun to leak unto the white floor. Melting into a puddle of sorrow. This door knew that it had been fucked by that man and forgotten. Bleeding into another world, into another story, Mr. fucked up red door had begun bleeding into another colors pain. Poor lonely red has begun inching its way to my corner, so slow and seductive. I watched as Chastity began to reveal herself to it so willingly. Chastity, my Chastity, I should've known. You only bring me here, feeling like that child again. For I am here, the same as before, wrapped inside of my own anguish, leaking my own blood. Chastity, my Chastity, I should’ve known. Mr. Red, please do not poplute your sin into my pure Chastity. Again.

This room was not my bathroom. In fact, this is nothing like my bathroom. In my bathroom, I live for the memories of Chastity. Who was so violently ripped away from my bosom like a child.

I am suicidal, and this terrible room hinders my intention. Where am I? Where is my Chastity?

Tell me...

The agony of loosing laughter.
Dull clusters of glitter filling eyes.
When the sky is gray at sunrise.
I wonder
How do you feel?
When
the flesh you despise is surrounded by the heart you love?
& The mind you long for
doesn't direct the feet of the beholder back to you?
How do you wash away memories
When
Finger prints are ingrained into every portion of your skin?

The agony of loosing laughter.
Dull clusters of glitter filling eyes.
When the sky is gray at sunrise.
How
Do you brighten up your smile?
& Everything that personally delivers joy to your world
has locked itself away in a dungeon of sorrow?
How
Do you love?

What agony it is...
...to loose laughter.

Citizen Cope - sideways

I use to Love someone this way.
The End.

T U M B L R

Check out my Tumblr.com


http://RobotWizard.tumblr.com/

Rail Road Decisions pt 2

I got on the train, believe it or not.

But I got off early.
Hey mom :)

Rail Road Decisions.

3 trains.
Headed towards my direction, have come and gone without me.
Not waiting an extra second for me to make a decision.
I can't quite seem to build the courage to love you again.
To run off with this luggage to a new home that you've built for us while you were gone for so very long..

Here you are.
A year later.
At my door step
Wishing me back with no hard feelings.
As unexpected as your visit was, I've been waiting for you.
I've been waiting since that cold winter that you vanished.
Waiting through spring & summer, Through winter again, with little slumber, I waited until August.
I even waited while encountering numerous relationships with others, hoping you would be the reason I abruptly massacred feelings with another.

Like a season finale,
you left me yarning for more.
After months of insight, hopes and dreams, you simply said goodbye.
We;
The youngest hearts amongst clovers and kings
You;
My Ace, have allowed me to rise above the game
However, slashing your own chances as if it were better for the both of us.
I pity you, fool
For you honestly believe, THIS could be the beginning of our forever that we planned.

I'm convinced I'm dreaming.
The individual of my dreams has return, asking for my hand to wince away into a land, that's as beautiful as we only imagined.
Love of my life, why do I no longer recognize your smile, and melt under your kiss?
Why is the chill from your finger tips as cold as death and no longer fill my soul with firey heat ?

As you can see...
Yesterday came to soon,
For I didn't have the chance to plan my actions for when you actually were to return.


Another train, another hour.
Us;
Sitting at opposite ends, awaiting my decision.
I pity you fool for believing in our love again.

Purposely Untitled

The wind is whispering again.
Singing sweet melodies in C & D major,
humming from its dungeon of happiness,
caressing promises into my soul that'll never be fully fulfilled.
While wrapping its cool around my ear, it lifts me from my feet into the arms of day dreams and imagination,
like i were a stray cat hypnotized by an aroma,
causing me to hover in motion towards a poisonous green scent;
hungry for the mystery.
Gloating in my own mystification, relaxedly drifting into a world that I've only caught smeared still frames of.
Just as the thought of a gestured smile appeared upon my face, my world graveled into the darkest grey.
The beautiful tune from the wind had so naturally transformed into the depressing violin composition that my world has come some what immune to.
There it was, Standing there grinning at me, wearing a black frown crying transparent tears.
The wind was crying again.

Another again.

I told myself no.
& its another again.
Its something about this individual that makes me cut my nails short.
Gives me an Opportunity to allow my hair to be as free as it wants to be.
Makes me screw my tongue ring
Extra tight.


Here we go again.
I need to switch on my common sense button.


At lease I don't have to wear pants.

Lust Factor.

The Lust of Flesh.
A sin In which I have no control.
I'm here, Searching deep for a source of common sense,
& all I receive is a clouded visions of ecstasy,
Aching bones and hungry finger tips.
How dare you leave me with a dead kiss.
Leave me with 100 invisible scratches in sets of 10 tracing down my back.
Bite marks on my shoulders and kisses down my spine.

You should know...
While awake, I dream of caressing your soul while kissing your heart.
If only I loved you, this sin would seem less mortal.
If I loved you, I could allow our fingers to intertwine, relaxing in a shuttered gaze.
I could bring myself to whisper obvious secrets in your ear from my dungeon of affection.
You should know...
Behind shy eyes, I lustfully watch your every move in a rhythmic tone, memorizing every sway, counting every heart beat.

The Lust of Flesh
A sin I have no control over
I would let you know, only if I loved you.

Channel Tic Toc

The Jeffersons are on.
Which means its 5:30 a.m. Again.

My world is grey.
Grey is cold.
Cold is lonely.

The wind dances in army lines
Tapping pistols on my window with grins of power plastered on,
For there are no sound waves to interrupt its path.
Empty spaces.
I can hear the sounds of blood rushing through veins.
And heart beats.
Yells, from a back scratching orgasim that I'm accountable for
But nothing is real.
Nothing is a memory.
Everything is a copy.
Of a copy.


You hear that?



Me neither.

Still...
What a beautiful Ebony morning.
The sky is Pepper.
The sun is peaking over the choral mountains
Licking partials into the sea as it brushes high above our grey world.
The light black grass looks inky as the Dew sets atop.
Oh, how clever the sun is, everyday, as the Jeffersons end, the selfish moon vanishes into the black of day.
Sun rays cascade into the Pepper, so beautifully grey.



& what do you know?
My Soul mate is calling...
You beautiful insomniac, come to me.


I know its 6:00 a.m because Sponge bob is on.

Sippin Sangria.

Jesus. Sometimes a lady just needs a drAnk, to ease the frustration.
Today, i am done with you, I'm attempting to make new moves.
Better the situations at hand and those in the near future.

Vodka.
Today, i need vodka.

Rose Red Heart

After one has Blossomed from the root of its harness,
The experience of Life is ultimately determined by the kiss of the sun.
Its rhythm from the wind, its chill from when the sun is done and the moon has set in.

The beautiful Floret in which avail oneself of exposure.
You'll disappear from your world of honey bee's & spring laughter
when your beauty is drawn in by the consumer.
Accept the Ripped roots of your soul when you are loved by another,
Given and Received by a Lover and one who is loved.
Ignore your falling dreams of dust and days, for your present world will be raised by the dew of eternity.

Gaining awareness of the dispel and except the roots of its weary.
You Execute the root when it has grown rotten,
only to rebirth a heart that has turned sour.

Introducing the Three Ninja's

Most people do not enjoy my serious humor.
But i usually tell jokes for my own amusement. Not yours.