I try to say
Walking a thousand painful steps forward
Is better than a stagnant suffering
But really what I'm saying is
If it will hurt anyway
It's best to forget yesterday
And hurry to tomorrow
Where someday will come
And a tomorrow will wipe away the sins
That yesterday left on your soul

After the rain settles
the Fieldfare appear one by one
The fledging Sun paints shadows,
clouds part themselves
Barefoot,
on cold bracken
we look for the threadbare
stumps and leaves
Winter cold,deep
against its snare, snaps.

A lot can be
accomplished
when you pull 
the covers over your
head, and just listen.
Tune out all the
distractions and *******.
Let the silence guide you.

Do you see all the
colors whirling around in
your mind?
The greens and the reds?
The indigo and violet?
They are thoughts forming.
Grand, artistic, unbridled thoughts.

People will desperately
try to distract you, and keep
you from this place.
They are a stranger to it.
Phones will go off.
The crowd will knock
at the door,
don't answer, they will
always be there.

Your job is to create in
your beautiful, dark womb.
There is a spark,
electric alchemy going on.
Don't question it.
You are an artist,
and you are giving birth

I have come to the end of my rage
I have come to the end of my days
Please don’t fear me now
I wish to love you still.
I have highlighted useless things
I have spoken such empty sayings
I have gave away that are much overdue
I have done all that there is to do
Please be another sentence longer as I write you down
In my book of endings
Please be another comma,
for I shouldn’t be left hanging onto some threads, they have started fraying.
Let’s watch another sunset again
for another day
Let’s feel the brown grass underneath our feet in late May.
Lets smell the ice cream van from a few streets away and pay with a little money we could spend.
I could love you
But that would be sordid of me.
I would cheat you out of forgiveness
but I’m sorry.
We could love again
But we both know
So, i have to let you go.

I'm an athlete.
I can throw and catch,
and run in the sun-
all shiny and bright.
And you just sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I'm a writer.
I do poetry and stories,
all pretty and pink,
and all you do is,
sleep, sleep, sleep.

Look at me, mama.
I can dance.
I'm lonely,
I'll move to France,
meet a woman, and get married.
Look at the ants crawl through
the spilled red juice on
the grass, nature everywhere,
as you sleep, sleep, sleep. 

Look mama,
Look at me, mama!
I have children now,
all good and wise,
you're a grandma.
Why don't you wake up?

Please look at me, mama.
Open your eyes.
I'm lonely and afraid.
I'm old now, and cold,
and you still,
just
sleep, sleep, sleep...

If I could turn back time
I would hit Backspace all day,
Id put on Caps Lock
and SHOUT what I say.

I'd use the whole Alphabet
To tell you hello,
Press seven Numbers
Til you picked up the phone.

I'd Tab through the comments
I didn't want to hear,
And use the Arrow Keys
To drag your body near.

I would Delete the harsh words
I didn't mean to speak,
And Insert the "I love yous"
I before couldn't leak.

I would use Ctrl to
Keep reigns over my heart,
And I would Escape lies
That tore us apart.

I'd Print out your photo
And kiss it goodnight,
Use the Calculator
To check that we were right.

I'd Paint you a picture
of us, you and me,
Then I'd hit Enter
Just so you would see.

Those are the things
I would do in my strife,
If only Backspace
worked in real life.