Bone-white moon.
Lacrimosa caught
in the mechanisms.
Can you see me?

Of course not.
I blend in
with the sawgrass
and the catacombs.
With beach glass
and stones the color
of rust. I am a

microcosm.
Can you hear me?
My tragedy is in
the way I keep quiet.
Silence like ashes.
I am ethereal now.

This is my requiem.
Send my regards
to Mykonos.
Burn the screaming harp.
I am subterranean now.
Someday it will all turn
to gold.

How heavy the days are.
There's not a fire that can warm me,
Not a sun to laugh with me,
Everything bare,
Everything cold and merciless,
And even the beloved, clear
Stars look desolately down,
Since I learned in my heart that
Love can die.

What can I give?
Fragile heart, fear of what the world asks of me, I am knee deep in need of some kind of meaning.
What does my soul have to hide?
I can only carry love, you threw at me the opposite.
I look up the sky,
A heart full of wonder,
Eyes wet, drenched in awe,
Shaky hands,
No longer can they bare the weight of holding your heart,
No longer will the sweet scents of spring confine me,
For I am no stranger, I have traveled along this path before and I am restless.
Used.
Release me,
Let me be that bird you see,
Stop trapping my mind,
Stop robbing me of my dignity.

With all of my being, the bright existence I contain,
I can only give love,
So let me be free.

Dream Or Delusion

I am back with a vengeance,
my possibilities are so endless.
I was only gone for awhile,
no one else has my writing style.
Everything I do is an instant success,
I'm the God, you all should bless.
Everything I touch turns into gold,
unlike you, I will never grow old.
I'm a man who can't be beat,
unless of course, its my own meat.
I walk alone and stand tall,
there ain't a situation, I can't control.
No one has my creative imagination,
my brain will never go on vacation.
I take from the rich and give to the poor,
even Robin Hood thinks I have delusions of grandeur.
I have bi-polar with a twist,
my personality you can't resist.
One day conceited, one day depressed,
with *** and money, I'm obsessed.
I only speak words of wisdom,
my words always deserve a listen.
Even when I'm gone, I'm always here,
don't worry, I will never completely disappear.
In due time, I may fade away,
then everyone will celebrate my birthday.
It's my time to be in the sun,
I'm not afraid, I won't run.
I'm the master of all rhyme,
finally it's my shinny time.
I have waited many years,
shed over a million tears.
All my dreams are finally coming true,
I believe my time is long over due.
Is my nightmare finally over,
have I picked my lucky four leaf clover.
I am ready for my standing ovation,
rid myself of all my hidden frustration.
Maybe all this is just a cruel diversion,
coming from a mind, who was an abortion.

You're standing in the rain
it's 4 am and the wine you drank
is still dancing in your blood,
the cigarette smoke still lingers in your hair,
and lipstick is smudged on your skin.

Where you are is unknown
the streets are thick with puddles
and all the people have wandered off to bed
but you didn't.

Because going home meant being alone
and you hate lying in a bed
with cold sheets
with  no one to hold.

You hate waking up without someones fingertips
tracing your lips
or combing your hair.

You hate standing in your kitchen
looking out your small ***** window
wondering where the person who was made to love you
disappeared to.

So you stay out
just to feel less lonely.
Even if the only company you have are a few scattered raindrops
and the faint glow of street lamps at 4 am.

What do you see
When you look inside me?
What do you see
When you look in my eyes?
Can you see
The scared little girl
I was growing up?
Can you see
All my insecurities?
Can you see
All my secrets?
What do you see
When you look at me?
What do you see
When I stand all alone?
Is it a girl
So lost and afraid
She can't look you in the eye
and ask for help?
Is it a woman
Strong and confident
In who she is
And what she wants?
What do you see?
What do you see?
A strange mix of both?
Neither?
What do you see
When I finally,
Look you in the eye?
Can you see
All my broken pieces?
All the scars?
All the things
I've tried to hide?
Can you see it all?
Or
Is that just
What I see
When I finally
Manage to look at me?

shes so tired.
you can see it in her eyes.
and yet she dares to take
college courses and dares to
wear her weird spock ears
to school.

she goes to soccer every day till
6 and still does her homework.
she wakes up at 6 every day and
tries her hardest to get some
sleep at night.

she over thinks (sign of intelligence, right?)
everything and she is kind of a
perfectionist when it comes to school.
shes been slacking with her artwork and
reading but she still drinks green tea everyday.
she just wants to live and to stop being
so afraid of everything.

and her daddy issues slowly get
worse and she shelters herself from
any sort of affection, which is not
okay because she knows that so many
people care for her, right?
dont they?
......

right?

her panic attacks have been getting
worse but she hasnt cut in awhile
and she tries so hard to be
proud but its so hard because
she can barely even breathe
anymore.

I remember my old grand dad
Always wore his Sunday best
We always called him "Poppy"
It was always pinned upon his chest

For as long as I remember
He always had that piece of red
Tattered, torn, but sturdy
In memory of the dead

Echoes in his mind of years
Images so real
I never asked him what he saw
His tears...they sealed the deal
A silver screen of vintage flicks
In his brain of days gone by
Of good times with the friends he had
Of the days he saw them die

"Poppy" sat out on the porch
With his beat up Meerschaum pipe
He kept it tight between his lips
I never once saw it alight

He'd stare out in the distance
Seeing things from back in time
He'd listen to the voices
He never quite heard mine

We lost him back in eighty three
When "Poppy" got the wire
He was the last of his platoon
They had just lost Cpl. Squire

Echoes in his mind of years
Images so real
I never asked him what he saw
His tears...they sealed the deal
A silver screen of vintage flicks
In his brain of days gone by
Of good times with the friends he had
Of the days he saw them die




"Poppy" went inside himself
Never spoke another word
He was back with his old friends
As free as a free bird

Each year he would get dressed up
"Poppy" would go out on parade
He never, ever left the house
The porch was the longest trip he made

On the eleventh of November
He'd would polish up his boots
And at precisely eleven hundred hours
He would stand there and salute

Two minutes more of silence
From a man who didn't speak
But his actions, they said volumes
They showed that "Poppy" was not weak

Echoes in his mind of years
Images so real
I never asked him what he saw
His tears...they sealed the deal
A silver screen of vintage flicks
In his brain of days gone by
Of good times with the friends he had
Of the days he saw them die


"Poppy" never left his prison
The one he created in his head
His world was just the front porch
And the life that he once led

I remember my old grand dad
With his poppy, beat by time
It would adorn his chest proudly
And I now wear it on mine.

Why do people tend
To leave things behind,
When they need to go?
How careless.

How thoughtless.

Don’t they know
That memories unfold?
And they hurt.
They hurt a lot.

But it was thoughtful of them.