Before i met you, i thought i knew love;
that warm cozy feeling that comes from a hug
Before i met you, i thought i knew heartbreak;
when you sob on the floor and your fingers shake
i had myself convinced i’d never be happy,
i searched for any love that might make me sappy
Before i met you i ignored my oblivion…
oblivion.
oblivious to who i was, i created a mask.
a mask to cover a personality i knew nothing about,
a mask to hide all the feelings i wanted to ask.
i tried to fit in with the girls who were loved,
longing for attention, but aside i was shoved.
Before i met you i feared the world,
like every other lonely 14 year old girl.
Before i met you i feared who i was and who i could be;
feared their opinions and who might not like me.
i had heard plenty of love songs, before i met you
and told myself junior high love was real, an excuse to feel blue.
When i met you i needed no excuse,
you taught me to let all of my emotions loose.
my happiness and sadness were, like my name, and deep and free ocean,
you taught me love and you enhanced every emotion.
i found myself in your dark brown eyes,
within them i could see limitless skies.
your big happy smile i’ll never forget,
your whole being is something i’ll never regret.
when i met you came sadness and true love,
a lesson about heartbreak  and laughter sent from above.
my angel sent to teach me things school never could,
never thought i’d fall in love, though with you, i would.
i knew you were bad for me from the moment we met,
but curiosity killed the cat, so with you i went.
Now since i met you, “thank you for loving me” is all i can think,
as blood, sweat, and tears all pour down the sink.
But since i met you, i wear no mask,
within you, i found myself, no more questions to ask.
Since i met you, i don’t long for attention,
in my head i remember the help you would mention.
Since i met you, i no longer fear their opinions,
they’re all sheep anyway, society’s minions.
Since i met you i don’t even listen to love songs,
each love is different i write my own to rips of bongs.
Before i met you, i didn’t know how to care,
since i met you, i learned that’s because caring is so rare.
So thank you for teaching me the greatest life lesson,
not every person we meet is meant to be a blessin’

Like a sleepwalker
she passed through each day.
Voices chattered in her head,
Snatches of conversations
That she could not quite catch.

She dropped like a stone through her emotions
And lay in silence on the bottom.

Battered and bruised
She ached at every turn,
Or floated softly among the shadows
Guarding her spirit.

It seemed she had passed
Through a threshold of pain
That held her on the edge,
Like the new born......
And the shadows nurtured her
Behind the veil of her own consciousness,
Waiting for the memory
To rise up into the light of her being.

When it came she was filled with fire,
Warming her as it spread
through her soul,
And she knew a new knowledge
That was older than she,
Older than her previous selves ,
Older than the Earth.
Slowly,she raised herself,
Taller than she'd ever been.

Filled with courage
she stepped out,
Over the edge,
And she joined all of her other selves,
Embracing them with open arms.
Sobbing,she acknowledged herself
As she flew with her shadows
Back through time,
Back to her beginning
From whence she had first set out
In the darkness of ignorance.

The light shone so brightly,
Drawing her own light towards it
In a spinning ****** so intense
That she let go of herself,
Separating into a million points
of light as she joined the pool.
Her lights bounced off each light
They touched in an ecstasy of greeting.

Looking back ,
Towards the edge,
She watched the shadows
Nod their satisfaction
Before they turned away,
Fading into the darkness that was the Earth.

I thought I was everything
and nothing all at once.
This world all spinning
To the direction of my blazing trails.

But I was a fool
I was always a fool to think so.
I let my blood run cold into the depths
of every body of water I could drown in.

And I thought it would be enough
I ran this world clutched under my fingertips
I believed I was above it all
And above every felony I could commit most of all.

But I believed in things
When I couldn't believe in myself
"The ends justify the means."
As I thought myself worthy of giving judgement.

But everything that goes around comes around
For who was I to call upon judgement
No mercy and no worth
All  under the guise of a wrathful and unforgiving God.

But I stand here before you now
Before the court, the jury, and the Gods
To sentence me now, a false prophet
For I once believed I was everything and nothing all at once.

I confess all my sins
And admit that I was a fool
I was a fool to think I could change something
That there was a meaning to everything I've done.

So lock me away
From everything I have ever hold dear
For nothing will be enough
To erase all my faults.

But isn't it punishment enough
That I've lost all I had?
Watched good men fall to dust.
And saw empires of what I've built collapse and rot?

I suppose it never ends
After all we carry all our atrocities
Even in death and rebirth
Forgiveness was never an option.

So maybe I'll just raise hell on this ******* earth every chance you allow me to.

-Kore

Can't you see this was all one big, cruel joke?
I have finally clawed myself out of my grave,
just to turn around and spit at the headstone,
and I no longer recognized who was put to rest.

I was wrongfully buried here,
so why won't the grave digger free me from the cemetery?
I implore you, please, to listen, as I insist
I don't belong here!
I have healed all the things that put me to my death,
and I think those that decide to live again should be exhumed.

Why must the past keep trying to push me back
into shallow dirt?
Trust, I know,
that the grave plot never cared one way or another;
it was already calling my name and continues to try
to call me back,
but all I ask is that the darkness let me start over.

we are receding
we are moving inward
to prepare for
another rebirth we are
absorbing all
we have brought forth
in abundant harvest
with the fullness
of our moon light
we are strengthening
we are gathering
all unto us
we are resting
within our Self

The ghosts of the dead give no shade
In this cemetery of stumps.
Elsewhere, the seeds left behind
Sprouted, and the forest lived again.
Not so on Kingston plain,
Where the life of the very soil failed,
Now a field of Bracken fern and lichen.
But, here and there,
An Aspen lifts it's quaking leaves.
In the shade, the lichens yield,
And grass grows again.
"Perhaps in another hundred years",
The ghosts whisper.