For You


You chase perfection with the accuracy of the most deadly killing machines,
hunting a ‘forever’ that will end when the word ‘never’ becomes a bedfellow.
They say the murder of man is the greatest of rushes within the psyche
of a mind craving fixes destroyed by time and his dark henchman, crowding
spaces that were meant for beauty, beauty that bleeds from your soft skin.
But your adrenaline comes from the shallows, the underneath where mirrors are foes
and the social smiles of peers always hold those judgment woes, almost divinely
shelving your being into the most fearful of forgotten yet crowded warehouses. Those places
where you become an antiquity artifact resting, lonely yet still denying so in your dwelling, 
dreaming of the gentle breezes in foreign lands that once found the missing pieces of your broken image
and desiring the sensitive touches of a hand that feels like it was always meant for you.
Every place you’ve been you take another place with you on your travels through this life.
Every memory has a tidy space held within, easily called upon for every new direction taken.
And the continental breakfast served is more than enough for them to keep room and board,
always staying with you; the misery, the joy and the hope, all servants for your daily rituals.
But don’t hold too close to such clientele, they can be jealous and unruly, turning against your tide
until you’re caught in the undertow of what you once held dear, not realizing they are drowning the future
and the taste in your mouth is the bitterness that has become them, harsh with regrets exaggerated.
So let sweetness settle in, bring it’s belongings and allow you to reap the benefits of benevolence.
For you deserve more than what the past has delivered. The ether is empty, infinite and it is fear-worthy
but it’s the home of possibility, where happiness is veiled in the darkness and pain is a good thing.
For it calluses the weaknesses that make your steps seem fractured, and lets your phobias find their monster.
They all want to know you hun, yet you despair for their weak stomachs and your heartbreak, 
unwilling to let them teeter on your ridge, the bluff before the sea of your own making, a bluff where 
all onlookers can read the tell and the kitty is too full of precarious chances to be made or miscalculated.
A place where Fate is even timid to wrestle your heart so guarded by premonitions of his brother Chaos.
But I have reached your table, wallet full and all in, risking poverty for the chance at winnings
more meaningful then all Mona Lisa monetary rewards and my smile is nothing to be debated about;
it is true, trustworthy and real, for you to look upon and know that it is you who did this.
For this once broken man is still in repair, and in you I may have found an architect worthy of the deadline
and I want to be there to watch the renaissance of two become a story worth telling, whatever the outcome.
So when you fear I hold strong, when you lose hope I deliver some, and when you’re in pain I give relief. 
These are the benefits of believing in more than what has come before and dancing forward, and if 
you move too close to that ridge I will be there, dancing with you over the edge to music that was meant for us.
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