Dear Dad,

We close our eyes, and we retreat
to a very special place-
Away from worry, away from doubt-
familiar teardrops trace.

So, when I see you sleeping –
the phone right by your seat-
I cannot help but, lay parallel,
& forgoe frantic's defeat.

All I can do is lay with you

To meet in Slumber's deep

Knowing that day you leave this earth-

we can always meet in sleep.

Love, Eric

Lying in thick dark
the candle we made glows warm,
burns away my time.

Three
chests heave-
in the dark,
Breathing throughout
Each exhale.
The soundscape
adopts
a sleepers tone;
As
the clock's
      Tick tock,
Counting each second;
Becomes infinite-
The midnight's
metronome
Insues...

Controlled
Assimilation
Nurtured
Aboriginal
Defeat.
Indignant
Americans
Now
S *ympathetic

A gap within my minds brigade
is the price, solemnly payed
weak- the bold brain's barricade

a barricade assumed concrete,
proven otherwise as I repeat
irrational- my slow defeat

Compelled am I, a victim to
intrusive thoughts I can't subdue,
to cease them truly, I've no clue

But I've a hunch that if I end,
consumption, and myself defend,
longer no more I'll haft pretend

No one can function at this pace
I wish always my steps retrace
back to run a different race
to end in a much different place.

After were gone
my heart will sit out
on the lawn
And my mind back in our den.
I'm blessed and charmed to be a Pon,
That much I comprehend.
Never wonder- always ill be, grateful till the end:

but an abnormal load of guilt, you see
I feel always & constantly

You wont say, but I still know,
that the ride of life I drive too slow.
Somehow, every loving act,
answered question, & proven fact
I took to quickly, wisdom lacked,
my psyche now barley intact.

for drugs are my defining trait...
never imagined as my fate...
I had it too good, I still have it so...
What the **** will I do when both of you go?
I can barley get by, the extent you don’t know,
of the Eric sacrificed, revert I don’t grow.

I may look like a man, but you know that I'm not
there is so much much more I need to be taught.

I'm a song and a poem and an epitaph alike. I'm the dirt gravel path in the forest you hike. I'm the wind and the rain, I'm the first sip of tea
I am the red haze above the deep dark blue Sea.
I'm whips of hard smoke, fresh perplexities-
im only what
you want me to be,

In the washroom
my reflection
and I,
Challenge one another-

A coagulated sweat,
A Combat baby's brain,
A moon that doesn't set-
Ascending constant strain...
Oh Anxiety, Paranoia,
Obsession and Depression,
Still perhaps, a poem just might
set free this true confession:
Confusion and  Delusion
The mirror's blunt conclusion
Pristiq, and then Welbutirn,
Art's  inclusive-type solution.

another one's challenge;
my Reflection , and I
In the Washroom.

Of modern tragedy I sing
Deluge-  tears forwardly fling
Watching winter melt to spring...
goodbye snowflakes glistening.

I've let these months weave past my grip
& I have a feeling I wont return
So take this time and read my lip;
From these words I hope you learn

That No drug ever is stronger than me.

There's always a choice

You are free.

It happens just because we need
To want and be Wanted too
Serendipitously here, spontaneously there,
A true friend I've found in you.

Now friends will come and some will last, but in the end so few;
Are in actuality Ride or Dies
Disappointingly it's proven true.

Lucie my friend, has forced my hand
To write my words of feeling
For untill now there'd been no reason
To attempt a written healing.

♡

What I was told was to withhold
belief in what you feel
Yet in fashions old, I lay & behold
All which isn't real

The guise of gold that denial upholds
(Before which we all kneel)
Has taken cold for warm, and sold
what from us it steals.

Prove to me
That steadily
My hands will cease to shake

& try to show me
another way to see....

Promise me,
All I'm so unsure of

Promise me-
That even this will pass.

Through the window on the basement floor, the truth still speaks; a friend
Reminding me, compassionately
That love and their plans must end.
Now, To sever two souls
But set only one free-
Is by far a painless feat.
How can the severed truly believe
Their love wasn't bound by deceit?
We may lie and hurt, deceive n depart. Argue and destroy,
Ruin precious art;
Burn precious songs to be left in your heart-
We may scar and ignore, avoid and then face
but no magic or time; Not a thing can erase

The Music we share
as
the 'Music'

We Face.

Bubbles & Diamonds go hand in hand,
Slowly dirfting up to land.
Will you find them in the sand?

Like bubbles & diamonds we float & withstand,
All of life's unruly commands.

As Brother and Sister we may fight and demand,
but like bubbles & diamonds,
Complementary we stand.
With the same blood in our bones
  We'll do what we can
Like bubbles and diamonds
To grow hand in hand.

From infant to women
and child' to man.
The importance of family
We Understand.

I can cook
I can clean
I can do laundry...

I can draw
I can paint
I can write,

I can play the piano
The gutair
And the harmonica:

I can talk
I can listen
I can learn.

There's no more them- only us.

If you were the sun I'd bask in your light and if you were the stars, I'd see them tonight.  If you were the rain I'd be driffted to sleep, in the same room from the memories only we keep. I'd be engulfed in your sound, listening id forget,
The pain, my reality and every regret

Egan Lake, how I long for you
transcended isotropic view
In my departure somehow I knew

I would never be back;

here with you.

The simplest act might be someone’s cure-
I remembered when it was
a knowing look from a real friend,  
heals more then medicine does.

Although alone often we are
and it’s quite the sad affair-
back to that look I do retreat and
life is blessed to bare.

When I’ve gone a little hard
and sobriety’s days away
a real friend’s presence, brief or not
reminds me I’m okay.

So grateful am I, its appreciation like guilt-
I can’t deserve a love so true.
a feeling so many don’t even know
I’m overcome I actually do.

Thank You:
With all my heart, my friends,
the real ones may be few-
but to remind me that I’m loved;
well, I need no more than you.

The only words I know to speak are ones I've heard from other people.
And my memory's now so weak Ive even forgot the rhyme.

I'm a rainy night, the silent snowfall in a lonely November; that im the space between each eyelash when you grin.  I'm a sunset that hangs over the smoking, foggy lake, and im the tiny hairs that cover a raspberry.

I wish I could fuel you;
fuel me?
yeah-  fuel you.

so you would never end.

Once Again- I don't know...
Deep, inside
the memories I left behind-
Close my eyes,

And remain helpless-
Again
To the fear.

Sara I know you won't get this but Im writing it anyways- I think about you at the strangest times and I wish you could see the artist I've become and am going to be. You are permanently in my heart. I will make your mother a beautiful piece and I hope you can somehow see it. You are missed by such a random connection, me, just as strong as ever when it happens. I love you. Thank you for loving me too. Rest in peace, through the Mellin collie and the infinite sadness.

When the soft rain and distant birds
Play in a May's afternoon,
Look out the window and listen close
For they'll be gone by June.

In the night to jump a fence
As people out of tune,
Run and wander through the course
Beneath the rainy moon.

A girl named Lexie, is more than youd believe-
From kindness to beauty, to a witty retort.

This girl named Lexie; you behind she wont leave,
With honor and grace as her natural rapport.  

She tells me that in me, she believes
Which is more meaningful than she'll know-
This gift of her faith I try to recieve
As she writes her music for her show.

A girl named Lexie is more than you'll know,
A magical brain generating her glow.
Someone I am blessed to know-
And respect any time she gives me.

Austin and I
Move at different speeds.

The fatal race of life we each compete
at a pace unique to ourselves.
I find myself disoriented all the time,
exiting delirium, now on a regular basis...
Each time
requiring
A reorientation
Without which myself is lost.
When each reorientation
Is less accurate than before,
it all becomes inevitablly  lost.

That initial destination I may never know.

Through the haze In my mind
Waves Austin
And in a heartbreaking protest.
Waits Austin.
in a Tribute to nostalgia-
it's Austin-
And in an intersectionally unique pain  we are connected. There, he stays.
And as I slowly, But surely,
Continue my own race-
I glance back, constantly, and his hand still waves me on-
the gift of direction..
.
Now as I lay here
Before I can rise
I force myself to record it
for a better me;
that

Austin and I-
Move at different speeds.

many little bits and pieces
are what create the whole
take a person, for example
body mind, and soul

every idea behind every word
are lonely letters near
until they form a distinct thought
confusion unto clear.

even this piece is made of bits
or random artful thoughts
strewn together in tragedy
love it or like it not-

every single thing you know
are made of tiny parts
and once you truly learn that friend
gift control over it's art.

Painting the pictures I wanted to be in ~

Our life's lines are implied as parallels,
For they trace in the same direction
To our collective personnel's
profound destination:

As our life's lines are redrawn,
again and once again,
Our destiny's knotted into one,
A Triquatra till the end.

Know our lines stay parallel-
Though Infinite,  they'll never meet
In their never joining spell
Their truths within decept.

Here I am- still incomplete,
devastated by defeat,
pointlessly these words I wright
just to maintain, this written fight.
My writings before, which I now read,
seem to mock me with their speed...
Why, on earth, do I choose this?
There's clearly no synthetic bliss.
So couplets here leak out of me,
an idiotic tragedy
who now can I come to be?
when I keep myself from growing free.
With stupid serendipity,
I chant this foolish melody

as if everything was alright.

Couplets here, leak out of me
out of my very being,
unto the world in front of me
simultaneously seeing: that I'm made up of couplets,
no more & no less;
two lines of written words that arch balanced, they confess:

that first lines nothing without the second,
& alone the second lines meaningless at best

For it's in couplet's regularity, that confusion doth detest  
that there's always one then two, 2 reasons to write the rest.

You proved that fear of failure is to be overcome
through such compelling creativity;
and that total dissatisfaction and unprecedented contentment,
well,
are within each of us already-
all we need to do is choose.