I will never regret holding your hand
How can I regret something I once wanted so bad
And if you think the broken memories and promises are collateral damage then you are wrong
I never asked you for love poems or songs
All I wanted was to hold your hand and when I did it felt like thousands of tiny sun splashes were dancing in my eyes my lips and oh my god my thighs
I will never regret because regret in this case is weak
It would defy and soil the what seemed like a bright future
Yes I do not regret but that does not mean the fights were something I looked forward to
The Godzilla like monster I turned into every time you would crawl under my skin because you knew oh you knew
You knew that I liked tea with milk and if you step on my foot I will have to step on yours
You knew too much and yet nothing at all because that’s what it was supposed to be
We would go on yelling sprees over specks of dust
But in everything we did there was a lingering presence of lust and with that always an element of mistrust
It would gnaw on my nerves and rip out cords of my patience
The necessity to repeat, repeat, repeat the conversations made them looooong and tedious
And somehow we didn’t notice how it became so serious
And when we became ignorant we started to fade
Slowly but surly we obeyed the laws of disappearing
One missed call, two unread text messages, three kisses from a stranger
And just like that you disappear.

Much is lost in moments....A broken dress string...a broken cigarette....

The light from a star is never more near to your eye...than music to your ear.

Thunder may break...neutrons may shake, but light is still the fastest way to travel.

For I do not know what the end brings....but I can hear the song play...people dance...love.

You say your cigarette won't light....it's too dark.....my dress string broke....I am not pretty.

But the lunacy of counting cars...straightening cards...ensuring obsessions are filled...not forgotten...

Is my front door still open..........or is it merely the worry of precious things...left unbroken.

Lightening may strike...electrons may excite....But light in your eyes astounds...people look...beauty.

Bummed cigarette.....safety pin fix........Much is lost in moments..

The turn of a lip, the rise of the cheeks, that smallest action that makes my heart skip a beat.
Often they come with the cheapest of prices, even produce through electronic devices.
Other times, not even all the money in the world could entice one.
They are made for love, made for laughs, made for fond memories flooding back from my past.
Unrestricted in pleasure, forced in times of pain, there is not much better, then kissing one in the rain.
Some say they are small, some say they are trivial, but to me not getting them in life....unlivable.
Starting of excitement, cleanse away anger, the best thing to see when you first meet a stranger.
I'm speaking of giving one to many, but only really to one of a few, she may not know, but this is for you!
A smile costs nothing....yet they will change your day...
So, Smile.......smile away!!

This is me

I am from the wet and sticky.
I was born in the water, yet, somehow I ended up in the mud.

I am from the hopeful cooing's of my sisters,
From the moment when they had held me up,
They said 'you will be king'
They must have forgotten about the Fan...
As I raised my hands towards that light,
The sounds I heard in my head became the steady and rapid chop of the blades of disappointment and failure breaking upon my skin

I am from the school of Hard Knocks,
The place where you were kicked down,
In the fork of your legs ,
Until the moment when you become that which you ultimately feared...
One of them.

I am from the Pool where my grandpa's favor gave me the chance to learn, to swim, and to breath.
While my father's fear condemned me to sink.
I am from that walk on the shores of my birth, where the Geese lined up in flocks to usher in a greeting to their new king.

I am from her arms.
Where finally she says:
'You are enough'
'You. Are. Enough.'

I am from that little seed of doubt,
Forever ingrained upon my mind,
Picked at like the pieces of bread on the sidewalk,
I am from hesitation, and fear.
I am from walking forward.

I am from tomorrow,
And today.
I am from my mother, who never had the time.
I am from my father, who was no where to be found.

I am from being lost,
In the store and fearing that I had not only lost myself,
But lost the only way back home that I knew.

I am from being scooped up by my grandfather,
I am from the mirror they would point as the tears streaked down my face.
I am from the finger they would point at me and say:
'This is you.
Don't ever be afraid.
Don't ever be ashamed.'

This is me.

Been a hermit not going out of my way at work
Been talking to girls but not consistant
Not trying to hear drama ppls sad stories and drama ruin my day
Ive been reading and writing feels like something is missing
Tired of being a victim of others frustrations
If I dont say anything others assume im mad
Sometimes iI take time for myself its overwhelming
Others tell me their struggle and i wish i could help sometimes i cant do anything
Awesome ppl consumed with emotions that are left from a previous relationship
Or not taking risks pursue the dream
It ***** to be going in another direction
Instead of being on the path youd like to be on
Its never too far it doesn't hurt to try

Today,
This tree was the very picture
Of a pair of birds
Who had a fight after mating.

You will never understand
The eagerness of this tree
In making every morning a new one
Or daily showing me a new movie,
However I try to describe it
One day
Leaves, that cry
“don’t go” “don’t leave”
To the wind
That passes by

Another day
Of shooing cats feasting in the shade,
On fish bone, from someone’s leftover meal,
After dribbling pigeon-droppings from a branch,

Another day
The tear-filled eyes
Of its own branch
That cries
And supplicates the sun
To heal its wound

Another day
Of its own sister branches
Or, in human parlance, wooden chairs
That have become prostitutes;
On which strange people sit casually.

One day
The Bihari
Who is scared stiff of his lord,
And who runs every time a wind blows
To sweep away the dried leaves
Which the wind has killed,
Having made violent love to them.

On yet another day,
The fruits that laugh their heads off
Along with the little blossoms that laughed once |
At the silver-blue sky

On still another day
The tap root
That suddenly burst into tears
Gazing at the dusk
That draped golden strands on boughs and twigs

On yet another day,
The aged middle-portion of the tree
That unveiled the hitherto unexposed
Moss-green nursling
And prayed that it be named
Another day before this,
Had made me sad
By asking
“Are you wont to see
the other tree-friends
Throughout the countryside ?”

Had made me heartsore
By asking me
“Would you forget me?”

Once, have asked
Whether I would point out
The mother-bird
Who sowed the seed after she ate the fruit
I have made myself broken-hearted  |
wondering
Where or how mother was.

At the moment
When the mind gets shaken up
And becomes even more fragile,
In the memory of
Some trees
That have helped some lives thrive,
Have given shade,
Given oxygen,
Crucified,

O tree,
I am hugging you,
Giving you
A frozen, but still very passionate kiss
With the Alloyed numbness of death and life :
A tree-kiss