this world, this life
our only known, guaranteed shot at consciousness
should be spent by everyone,
extravagantly

and it deeply hurts me
like ten thousand knives into my optimism
that people are still waking up every day
wishing they could die.

i can't think of many things sadder than that.

i cant think of any thing i dont have my music playing.
i even writ in my note book but i still my mind has been blocked i cant think of what i wanted to say.  i just want to scream cause i have so much to say but i cant cause i dont know how to let it out free.

I think to be thoughtful
I speak to be heard
I write to decipher
The truth in my words.

I smiled to ensnare you
I laughed to secure
You slipped through the trap
That I built to procure

I kissed to consume you
I hugged to enfold
My arms close on nothing
You're no where to hold

I writhed to entrance you
I clutched you to keep*
Now the place where I hold you
Resides in my dreams.

I write so you'll read this
My hand pens the truth
All that I've written,
I've written for you.

Sometimes beneath close eyelids
I quest to bring you back
As if you were driftwood floating
Downstream on your back.
I dip my hands beneath the veil
And dry away the death
And from my parting, weeping lips
I give you back your breath-
Just like the rising sunset burning
In the summer sky
Paints and saints the mountaintops
And casts their colors bright.



Unrhymed Notes:

Sometimes I dream I can bring you back
Just as simply as dipping my hands into the water
To retrieve a floating piece of driftwood;
Dry the death from your skin
And breath life back into you
The way the sunrise reanimates
The Dark Mountains
Each and every day.

I see your Ocean eyes open
Embrace you like I'm trying to
Fold you into my skin
Where I can keep you always
And feel your summer peach warm flesh
Tangible against my permafrost fingers.

If the dead could talk
Nothing profound would leave your lips
They'd only quirk into a Cheshire smile
And you'd tell me to let go
Relinquish
Move along and stop standing still
Life is for the Living
Death is for the dead
And dreams are for the foolish.

"You *******."

You were always looking for a reason to say goodbye.
You should have known the only reason you'd need is that you want to.
There was never a need to lie straight to my face.
Instead you left me with anger, resentment and bitterness.
But it's been awhile since then and I'm better.
Not fixed, not whole, not as if it had never happened.
But close enough that remembering you doesn't make me want to break things.
So now I am here.
With new friends, in a new place, where everything is different.
I'm looking to meet someone new.
Although I haven't found them yet.
Part of me worries that I'm broken, and just haven't realized it.
What if I never find someone, because of what you did to me?

The people that come into our lives
do so for a reason
It may only be for a day or a month
or may just be for a season

But when two paths cross, no matter how brief
There's a lesson somewhere to be learned
It may be just that we're on the wrong path
and there's a corner that needs to be turned

It may be to teach us that we can still fly
and soar in the heavens above
or it may be a brief and torrid affair
to show us that we can still love

And maybe my words are speaking to you
and I'm part of some message you need
To show you the signs that surround you
so between the lines you can read.