Sequoia National Park, September 2014

Seeing souls.

The people whose words
inspire you to write,
indeed,
those who fuel
living conversations
that feel
like poetry themselves,
those people,
you must treasure them,
for they
are the artists’ friends.

jehovahsthicknesss hell yeah sexy Sunday! But I think everyone wins here.

jehovahsthicknesss hell yeah sexy Sunday! But I think everyone wins here.

For your eyes only, tumblr.

For your eyes only, tumblr.

jehovahsthicknesss I went backpacking in the sierras and then up to Santa Cruz for a couple days to see some family friends. It was quite an adventure!

jehovahsthicknesss I went backpacking in the sierras and then up to Santa Cruz for a couple days to see some family friends. It was quite an adventure!

Home at last.

Wearing my best silky underwears, have a bottle of wine, some cheese and fruit, and I’m about to watch Roger Moore as 007 while sprawled out in my bed.

This is a little more my style than camping.

The only other thing tonight needs is sex…

You’ve seen me:
I’m raw.
I’m a mess,
I’m a
Pointillist
Painting
That no one
Has yet
Stepped back
To see.
I’m raw,
But not soft.
I’m blown glass
And sometimes
Pieces of me
Are so easily
Broken off.
Sometimes
I am strong
Like the marble
Containing
Universes
If you were
Just to
Peer inside.
But I’m still
Just glass,
I am raw.
I am sex,
I could be
Your best
You never know
What move
Might be
Next so
Strip me
Naked
And see
I am raw;
You’ve never
Really
Seen me,
Like a gem
Needs
Some polish
In order
To gleam
That’s the way
You’ll need
To love me.

You think
He’d fall
In love
With me
If he
Could read
These
Poems
Of my
Heartbreak
But
How
Do you know
I haven’t
Made
It all up
And
The words
That you see
Are the only
Beautiful
Thing
About me

I’m giving my heart to California.

Falling in love
With places
Is no better
Than falling
In love with
People who
Eventually
Break apart
Your heart
For just like
People may
Change, these
Places do
The same
And this
Travel is
Wearing
Me thin

I love you’s are just lyrics.

I should have know
Way back then
When my words
Were my own
And yours were
Just a song,
That’s who
You’ve been
All along,
Song after song
Played for
Ears who
Strain to hear,
Picking out
Words that
Are no more
Than some
Lyrics, no
None of
Those words
Had ever
Been your own