standing alone in the desert
stripped of all false loves
memories to keep me humble-
reminders of the sinner I am
my all is for you little as it is
the little I have been given
and this is certainly enough
for a heart to be eternally grateful

First thing this morning
I broke my pen,
Spilled my ink all over my pretty white paper,
left with nothing but inkblots,
maybe the Mental Health people can use them?

from nothing and nowhere they arrive
and I am my own apparition scaring myself to death-
sometimes without warning in the most strangest of ways
I become one with all other phenomenon passing through
these slow summer light filled spins of the coin heads you lose
tails they win while a thirst raging in my mouth tells me to drink
drink it all down because you need the medicating waters that fall
from the sky which cloudless after rain is as blue as a babies eyes
and take advantage of the machinery that pumps it into the tap
that keeps you alive to the possibility of escaping the next trap
laid by an as yet unseen hand of the foe who lives just down the road
connecting us all to the very real transportation of the modern world

mark  number 1, the crack at the very top of your throat
for the times you've had to scurry out of the house
because it would've been too much time and too much noise to put on your shoes

mark numbers 2 to 12, for the number of tragedies you lack to write like a *****, to trick the devil into thinking he's a deity.

mark number 13, the crack at the very base of your throat (although sometimes it feels like it's at the base of your spine) from the brute force of all the words you've had to swallow but never rose in the toilet bowl, amongst all the other things you've purged

and boy,

have you purged your heart out.

My heart and a far away land intertwined
in the darkness of this night
Under my blanket I can see it
a ghost of my dreams and my enemies
a land made of golden sand
where I stand
and fall on these broken dreams
I Feel it like walking on broken glass

It isn't a pretty place neither is it sad
it's just a place where I'm always at

sorrow found me when i'm still young
sorrow waited 'til i'm undone
sorrow's the lover that i've been hiding
sorrow's the cage where i am dying

because this world won't accept
the misery that i carry
that i bear inside my barriers
because to sorrow, i'm in debt.

sorrow's the happiness i love to see
sorrow's her smile and my dignity
sorrow's the girl hidden in disguise:
sorrow's the lover of my life.