These are writers hands of mine
thinking in verse and prose
trying to convey my heart to my head
and make sense of it all
they feel the vibrations
of the surrounding
they move like the crow and swallow
rapid
always watching with wisps and twarts
dancing in the sunlight and rain alike
half and half they are
my duality
or practicality and lust
callused and worn
they have been and will be with time
as it whisks me away
age may creek into my bones
the creases may sink
and veins raise
but they will remain to move the same
they are my expression
for often my voice refuses to work
my writing words are able to stay between
while my heart may wander
and my head become frustrated and stuck
perhaps they will be my wisdom
perhaps they will become my eyes
to see every day anew
to smell the flowers
and ignore the hours as they will pass all the same

I choose to be happy because who likes to be sad?
How can we have a good life if all we think is bad?
When the water gets rough the tough ride the waves,
There's better things to do then complain about your days,
Exercise choice to strengthen your fate,
Time is unlimited so its never too late,
If your trapped in your mind escape from that prison,
it's easy just as simple as making the decision,
Close your eyes and really take a listen,
Silence is the noise you must have been missing,
Then open your eyes and view this beauty,
One fact of life is its gorgeous truly.

I swear ,
I have never meant to hurt you,
But my hands are knives
Unsheathed
And I swear it was
Never my intention
To leave you
But my feet started moving
Before my mouth
Could speak up
Because my voice box
Can’t stand up for itself
Because it’s a paraplegic
And shoelaces tied
Or not,
I will still fall every time I look into your eyes.
Jesus Christ,
My knees buckle more then my belt collection,
And my hands shake more then maracas.
Because when I said you were everything I had,
I sold everything for you.

Me, the world, and stupid people .

The clinking of seashells underneath my shoe's soles reminds me that even skeletons can be beautiful.
The cadence of the seagulls repeating their calls, brings light to the fact that *** rules all.
The ambient noise that puts some of us to sleep, is the sound of the circle of life, the mating calls of beasts.