The trees in winter:

no pigeons, no bullfinches --


the nests breaking down.

When I was just 14
I met a girl who looked like me
But there were differences
I truly couldn’t help but see

Like the way that her smile
Never seemed to reach her eyes
The ones of which I swear
Were long since devoid of life

I saw the way her hands
Cradled her own heart
The ones by which I know
Her own thighs were carved

And I could see her fighting
The dire urge to scream
And refusing to give in
To the cry she truly needs

-ARI

twisting
and
molding
the truth

avoiding
accountability
denying
what we knew

..

i reject
it
with my whole heart

this is not reality
this is art

But for doubt
I wouldn't have known
or understood

'twas then like
I was struggling to find
my path out of the wood

life-- the subject
of endless speculation
and dispute

philosophy however lofty
is but a mountain of lame words
a futile search for truth

I've been fortunate
to have doubted
it has done me so much good

of stars and lovers
an eternal mystery
ancient history

rock on ancient queen
gold dust woman the wind blows
you’re gone forever

You had sunshine
In your eyes
but
I was looking
For the moon

Grey clouds gathered that day;
the boy was forced to be a man.

fallen star walks earth
green grass to gold and silver
lost diamond of skies

When it rains
Little branches get wet
And droplets form on them
Not falling
Just waiting to drop
Some want it
Want to fall to this puddle from which there is no return
And some love it up there

They will drop though
That's for sure

Will they be shaken accidentally by a girl taking a walk?
Will the water build up so much
And they aren't strong enough?
Will they evaporate?

They will all fall
Eventually

Is that comforting?
Sad?
Is it crazy?