Whether you're searching or not,
when you find, stumble upon, trip over that moment
That creaky stairstep,
that mug that fits your hand perfectly,
that note you can't help but play once you've found it,
that shooting star
Whatever creates that serotonin, that dopamine,
that norepinephrine

What do you do about it?

What eats up your sadness?

Other people's?

A bullet in the barrel, finger on the trigger.
Pressured by existence, less for you to figure.
Clean shot if you pull, but wait just a second.
A sister who loves you, is reason to reckon.
And if ever a time, she can't come to your aide.
Don't exaggerate or regret a mistake which was made.
For her blood is your blood, the same curse through her veins.
Feel your pulse and grab hold of the reins.
Swallow what you chew and figure it out.
No wagons to fall off of, no pity parties to pout.
Always something to appreciate in life and of itself.
Be so selfish to forget that... I'll see you in hell.

Maybe it'll all make sense if I write it out
'Causr shouting from rooftops takes a toll
on the chords of my voice box.,
and I've got a lot to say about the quintessential ways
of bring diverted into separate paths,
having to stop and do the math,
Step by step and inch by inch...
Can't you feel that jolting pinch?
It emanates and the words spew out:
love and be loved is what it's all about.

Those that see,
Those that read beyond the misleading context
of labels and fables of "some American dream,"
those that weave between the ultimate do's and don't's,
those that poke fun at the human race,
tracing patterns of faces, lacing personalities
(adding extra steeze if you please),
those creating communities wherever the necessity lies,
those that hold ties without holding grudges,
those that don't budge when the elbow nudges,
Those who understand that the worst thing happening
to man is the reduced ability
and extreme fragility of love and being loved.

If it so happens that we rise together,
whether or not we're sharing the spotlight
or spiriting the night away,
I just want to say that my love is two-way:
I give what you give every single day.
A smile for a wink,
a blink for a yawn,
a bond for a word,
a nerd for a Nash,
a bowl of hash for a warm cuddle,
a puddle of tears for a lifetime of years,
a bucket of fears for a stone of sadness,
a little bit of bliss for a little bit of ignorance,
and a high tolerance of loving and being loved.

Still unsure if it makes any sense,
but best to leave it at rest and continue going
Where the flowers keep growing.