I love the chaos of it all
the anxiety
anonymity
the non-confidence of it all
is it coincidence that serendipity is sister to serene
calamity to calm
how its all so charismatically pristine
how prismatic an acumen
chaos is to us all
how do we learn to stand
if we never feel a fall
how do we learn to listen
if we never seek the call
for meaning is nothing but a question left absolved
some men think it wise
to seek meaning when we stand
if at all
wiser is it still
to scour the ground when we fall

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

I often dream of sapphire skies
where the tiresome bolts of indiscretion
no longer threaten to zap the people from their bodies
a jolt that blisters and bubbles up
painfully
but is so easy to hide
just cover it with forget me nots 
and garnish it with lies
and if that blister is ever discovered
just gasp and act surprised
I often dream of sapphire skies
so frozen
so demure
I often dream of sapphire skies
so cold
so impure

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

the crush
the crush of shaved ice combing the under hairs of my existence
the slush
the slush of a sky made bleak from expectations
seeking meaning while looking up
is the fools gold
comets are made of
the shooting stars
are soothing bars
with which we encase
ourselves
are we keeping them out?
or us in?
do we break if we bend?
the crush
the slush
its all
just mush
just good
enough

-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

life is free flowing

like a river

the more you try and hold it

drink it

the more it slips through your fingers

dribbles from your mouth

the trick is to let the current corral you

and merely marvel at where you end up
-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

happiness is little more than an unorthodox catastrophe
that slides seamlessly into a reluctant chaos
a sleeve containing the nut
like a peach or apricot
its always the sweet surrounding the bitter
just eat the fruit around the rot
to get to the
the hard
the coarse
the course of action is yet to be determined
except that lips part
juxtaposed
like a carousel horse missing but stretching to kiss the ground
that reach is the search for continuance
the countenance
of where happy should be
if only happiness where me
-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

Zombified memories
Always come lurching back
Like a wobbly flung boomerang in perfect dark
That comes humming back in staggering quarks 
My mind is frozen 
Statuesque but chipped and marked
Another 4am suicide 
Not a literal death 
Just a former me perishes
My reflection is hanging 
With a Cheshire smile
A wide toothy grin
With its gums caked in dry blood and bile 
Silence laid silent 
By echoed calls of notebook paper being ripped apart
Miser words made wiser by cloak of the pen
Lashing with dutiful insults until happiness stumbles in
Every day happiness
Love
Dies and its surely by choice
For fear guarded memories do dampen with cloist
Love dies
happiness dies
by suicide
Hanging
Dangling
Enjoying the ride 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M 

I ferry not in whims of love
nor do I dive into the what could of’s
it is hard to grasp but you cannot control another
we can hardly control ourselves
the inherent selfishness that love ghouls
is testament to needing help 
help that shall never come to pass
like a coveted moment replaying
or knowing which breath is our last
but here we’re here!
we beat the path with feet and hearts so stout
we are walking forwards backwards
watchmen of times long played out
searching for our answers
we look high and low
for something that we all
hypocritically know
“if only my love had acted how I wanted them to act, if only my love had read my thoughts, if only they had loved me back”
the problem is mirrored and a reflection upon itself
because your love is wondering the same
with their pains mutually unfelt
there is little we can do but love people for the blood they bleed
instead of shaking our heads and cursing the red when expecting green

-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

constant is the dark
thick and heavy
like marble
a statue of anxiety
much akin to the brevity of life’s banality
to be in the dark
is to be dark
to be submerged
a divergence
coincided with the other you
the crisper you
the truer you

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M

I fear that I have coddled curiosity far to much
to the point of not having a question to clutch
greetings wonderless imaginings, you are far to kind
for parking ever so righteously in my mind
for that I admire your wincing touch
the harpooning catalog of answers with buts
quickly to arms look whats comes 
what comes
but another hushed inquiry
its like reality has it in for me
or us
or we
I assume that’s your ticket
your cause to be 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M 

I often peruse crowning moments
searching 
like the way your reflection scours its own face
for imperfections
my lack of perfection is buried
a treasure
and scars mark the spot
a cushion
a solution
of things that I’m not
I am
what I’m not
defined
by what is lost
we’re all lost
lost

-=-=-=-=-=-=-
~C.B.M