Wind throws itself through my clothes,
tossing my hair and cooling the sweat of the climb
from my burning, beating body.
I am here. I am where I need to be -
high above the crowds and the clouds,
alone and utterly free.
There is much to see
but little to do,
and earthly troubles melt away
amidst these towering peaks.

It is mine, I declare.
But no, only in the mountains
do you finally realize
that nothing belongs to you.

There was something in the air that night
That lent itself to magic let the stars shine bright.
While the light of ageing suns fight to be
The one that might ensnare our sight.
Midnight binds the heart to minds
As minds forge constellations
Carved slight on the evening sky.
Those lines cast in stone
By worn hands long ago,
Tempered in the crucible of time.

Before we reach those warring stars
Or trespass on a wandering Mars.
Before we waken Saturn's rings
Or question Jupiter's reason to be.
Before we knock on Neptune's door
Or wonder if Pluto is rock or more?
The Moon seems to have taken flight,
Conspicuous by its absence
It slipped out of sight
Assured of its command
The master of the night.

These are the things that scare me most:
What I fear most are not the things that go bump in the night.
The things that frighten me are often times things that at first you can not see.
These things that first start with someone else thoughts can too often be turned into negative actions. These things can seemly spread faster than any virus,infecting the heart. What may start out as a passionate thought, or cause, can too quickly turn into a destructive action. This is why I fear insensitivity, crude jokes,  and apathy.
Other things I fear, are people that talk without thinking about what they are going to say first, or about how others might interpret what they are saying.
I fear selfishness, which may lead to uncaring actions.
I fear crude jokes that do not respect ones fellow man, or women, because it could subtly desensitize ones perception of those around them. They may get defensive and say it is just a joke.
The constant violent images on the news and on television, may further desensitize others to think that violence is normal or okay, or worse still, that it is a normal part of life. It don't have to be perceived as normal, we can chose to limit our own exposure to violence on television. We can let others know that we don't condone violence, whether it is on television, or in reality, or in our own community.
I fear all these things that at first hide inside the deepest darkest recesses of someones mind, long before it is publicly seen. This realization of this hidden darkness,makes me cry, or scream, if I thought about it all before going to bed. I would cover my head and sleep with the lights on, and every noise would make me jumpy.
This is why I fear those things that I can not see the most.

I feel nothing.

Sometimes I feel a small ache on the side of my chest, sometimes.
Small enough to know I’ll survive,
Painful enough to know you’re still here..

In my heart, where you always have been and where you’re always meant to be.

Would that the windswept blooms
Played soft through a valley's morning dew,
A while rested by sun scorched dunes
Embarked on path neither old nor new.
The wind shall choose what it will do,
Which leaves it leaves and those it shall use.
From forrest dark to desert twilight view
An acorn lays a haunting tune.
Song shines bright modicum of truth,
That we are but sand, swept away anew.

We would sneak on your rooftop during every thunderstorm
Watch raindrops kiss our flannels closer  together before we knew just how powerful the clouds could be

Lightning cracked
And just like that
It's Wednesday morning
This ceiling fan drowns out that wet pitter patter as I sit up in bed
Estimating how much water these bodies can hold
I tell myself the rain here settles down better than I do

I close my eyes
Pretend every droplet becomes another letter you sent for me
Pretend my silence now is just as deafening as my silence then
And the skies rip open
Your voice drips down my window pane onto my carpet
Asks me one last time for an answer

So I just want you to know
When we grabbed our hearts and became the flood
I thought we would be free
This nefarious rubble is all that's left
And now you're gone

I haven't slept much since I left
Most nights I stand at my window and wait for the wind to greet me
If I stand close enough, I can spot the stream behind my bedroom here
The sound it makes at night frightens me

A poem's worth is in the rhyme
It's in the flow
and in the time
It's in the beat
One of a kind
But most of all it's in the mind

Winter howls,
her fingertips prying
to enter the spiral maze
we attempt to control.

Yet, green eyes between here and how.
Chalkboard road blocks
of reflected memories in painted warped lights.
Rushing winds of passing trains,
run free with wolves.

Ah, but our bones are steady and grounded.

Another's skin could answer
mind riddles
or slur truth, like the lips of bottles.

Houses full of empty people.
Holding their own souls
in vacant palms jars
waiting to learn to trust.

What lonely arms to cherish.

I don't believe in God,
I believe in me.

Because
the only thing
that scares me
more than a God
is myself.

I am
so many people
that I can't even
keep track of
myself.

I am
group-******
ideas, personas,
smiles, images;
fractions of a being.

Phantom in plain sight.

I am a joke.
I am *******.
I make you laugh,
so you can't hear me.
I sell you someone else
so you don't see me
as I stand before you.

I am the ghost.

So, so many
voices
but none of them
are mine.

**** me
to pieces,
then gather
what fits.

It never does.
It never does.