Behold!
that drawing in
                 of breath
                         a minty
              entanglement
   of starlit senses
How they curl
       like the opposite
               of smoke
over the very
insides
     of my
           earthen throat
                         crackle of
       autumnal breezes          
whooshing through
like a beacon
And in that
split-second
right before
deep freeze
my molecules
   rise and fall
       in the rhythm
            of snowflakes
each one a
unique entity
   dusting the
            solid soil
                with loamy richness
                    and simultaneous
              feather impressions    
           of relief
Now
like silk draped
alabaster
I am cooled
Like sweet
        river water
  I flow
       rocked by
the slow
churn of
growing freedom
             that alights my pores
arises in tender
stillness
     through the
          looming forests
           of my skin
              penetrates the
                  unseen journey of
                     my night
                 as demulcent
          and persistent
as the balmy petals  
of a
   raging,
fiery
    bloom

in a box
candy
chips
two apples
a pear
are in the box

the box
is sitting
on white
tiles
and that
is where
the box
lies

We live these busy lives filled with stress
Fueled by the lies of what they call success
Be it a Lamborghini or Ferrari or even far less
We pick up on others visions, to which we aim our happiness

But, that be the true key to our success
Yes happiness
Our own true happiness
Only real key to success

Lives not on a key ring for
Or any other thing

How can I say this?
Because I've come to realize it only lies within!
So we lead these lost lifestyles, filled with lavish sin
Only to feed that monsters savage evil grin
Most importantly what I hope to achieve befofre im laid in the soil
If you want true happiness first find it in the one thing money cannot toil,

How I wish I'd seen this right from the start!
Oh yes true happiness, is only in your heart!

Getting there! oh I'll succeed!!

its funny
how we take refuge at night
stuck between
lingering and lurking
when everything and nothing
is wrong and right
all at once

thoughts deep enough
to drown us
drip dry overhead
staining our bodies black
as the sky outside our lazily cracked windows

every sound is amplified
limited eyesight
heightening our sense of hearing
encouraging us to remain
quiet
dark
calm
but never asleep

I keep one hand pressed against the ledges of my collorbones
Their solidity, my savior
The other hand
always clamped over my mouth, for I know that
When I smile
The secrets I ate as lunch will try to crawl out between my teeth

My tongue holds the truth prisoner
But I have underestimated the truth's ability to get out
Through my pencil, it sets itself free

Even my drawings do not eat enough

I erase her before anyone can see
I erase the girl sketched between those blurred graphite streaks
But I cannot erase the fact that my own bones are a comfort to me
And that, someday down this path,
I will be her
Beautiful only in the way that all dying things are
And I, like her, will be eraseable

I can only hope for my pencil to draw me a new path
A way out my prison and, like the truth,
I pray for my pencil to set me free.

This is no tribute
Always turning tragedy into poetry, I have no pride in that
This tragedy I borrow to write, and yet I do not
Weep for the one lost
My heart does not shudder and ache
Sensibly, we all nod our heads in time with the words
"I'm sorry for your loss"

A college boy, a childhood friend's brother-
I met him once, a birthday party I don't remember-
He killed himself the day before school let out

And we all nod our heads along to the sighing of
"So sad. He didn't even seem that badly off."
But inside, I whisper to him
That I understand

Tell me, I want to ask, how you give up,
How you stop caring that your mother will cradle you, dead in her arms and cry?

I envy, I respect
You, your decision
Yet I know not how to follow
For where you've gone is a world with wings
And every time I try to paint myself a pair,
I end up with tired feet

I will walk for you.
I will live like your alternate in another world
Where you never get around to making that choice
And all the potentials you turned away from
Still swirl around you in their ceaseless, suffocating dance
You found the end, didn't you?

If the living are bound to mourn the dead,
Then I must not be truly alive
For though my heart hurts,
I do not cry for you, safe as you are inside darkness and infinity
No
I mourn the living instead
They are the tragic heroes, the fatally flawed
You figured that out, didn't you?

This is no tribute
I have turned your curtain call into a monologue
But I have no way beyond this to reach you anymore

*We will pick up the pieces.
Don't worry about us here.
We understand.
Be free.

SMASH*
SPLATTER*

Cries