You had my heart,
you had residence in my brain,
you had a seat at the hand of my faith,
you had my love wrapped around your
entire body.
You had me thinking of all the
joyous adventures we would take
just us two,
you had me in love with you but more than that,
I was a fool.
I was more into it than you,
I put in more effort than you,
I followed all the rules unlike you,
I actually wanted this, it was all except you
who wanted two hearts to be better than one.
I showed my rage,
you showed that you were a man,
it took til our breakup to
present that to me.
I wanted you to be okay,
I wanted you to live okay,
I wanted you to find happiness,
I even wanted you to find
love again.
I reached out on your birthday,
you said I was a beautiful person.
I thought the universe of you,
you thought I was just your beautiful
prop.
More than a prop, dummy, puppet, or
toy,
I was nothing but your fool.
Traumatized and scarred by our finish,
my depression is the evidence
that I was a big fat fool for you,
thanks for nothing,
you liar.

They think online says it all.
Defines every matter
And knows everything by the back of its
Hand.
Use the back of the hand
And slap it in your face.
The truth lies where
Real people and real moments
Occur.
I am not what half of it says.
Nothing is make believe
But nothing is ever what it
seems.
I have something that can’t be
Ignored and I think well of others
Like I should and desire.
Forget
What the internet says about
Anything about anything
About anything about
Anything.
See for yourself.

Changing the strings on my guitar for the third time.
I lost count of the songs I wrote tonight.
I play my music and write my stories in a summer home
occupied by just me.
I think of ones I used to have and
write in my book how I will approach
and rekindle what we  once had.
Whether it was friends at the movies
or if it was a fun date with an awkward touch.
I cross out many phrases to introduce my love and desire.
I can’t say “I miss you” because that only makes it about me.
I hesitate to sound happy or just be honest that I’m not.
Aware the relationships are the past
but remember we are still here but living apart.
We’re all God’s children whether we get along or not.

I will smile and congratulate him
on his new girlfriend and never see her
as the girl who is loving him and holding him in her arms for me.
I will tell my old friend I’m excited she has plans with someone else to go to
that rock concert and I’m not getting drunk that night
for my own revenge.
I learn to be sober and happy for them. I don’t need to be their pick to
strum and make a beautiful sound every gig they play.
I don’t give up on others I loved,
and I give thousands of chances as the songs
played on the radio begging to trend.
I want to know how they’re doing.
I once knew their secrets,
I sold my soul once to them.

Lets just come together and take it slow.
Let them hear me again.
Maybe I do mean something to them.
I pray they remember who I am and
forget what I may have done wrong.
Only that should be what’s over.
Last thing we said was an apology.
Lets make this a heart to heart with a
hug at the end.
After that I can write a happy song that I
don’t normally get to.
I want you to be the reason this time.

Album

Round like the world,
this item is technically a world,
it is round and filled
with stories, tales,
and lessons.
Whether it first be the beat,
the bass, drums, guitar, and vocals,
this album is a story,
it’s not just facts in a
pamphlet.
When I sit at my kitchen table,
I have my sandwich on a plate,
coffee in a maison jar,
and I play an album from my phone,
Green Day,
Blink 182,
Shinedown,
Slipknot,
Korn,
Evanescense,
I hear stories,
I hear questions,
I hear unsure statements,
I hear complaints of anger and
misunderstanding.
The last few tracks are not the same as the
first few tracks.
The last few tracks are clinchers, conclusions,
fin.
This is just like listening to my own life.
Don’t know where I’m going,
but I know where I have been,
don’t know where things will end,
but I want them to end
on a good
note.

If I could thank every person who was nice to me today,
there would never be thunder crashing,
tornadoes whirling,
fires flaming,
only stars shining.
Butterflies chasing for the next
pollenated treat.
Children with their eyes beaming
and smiling wide,
oh so sweet.
Just another complement, how are you,
or smile to remind me,
there is love in this world,
it’s there somewhere.
Doesn’t have to cost a thing,
the more we smile and say nice things,
the more money we save so we can
later all go out together.
Now we can’t bring the whole world to the fun and
punkish café,
nor can I cook for all these people,
but we can bring the whole world to a better place,
in the heart, in the mind, on the street, boulevard,
town,
we can be respectful, we can motivate with kindness,
Patronizing and antagonizing take
too many guts and labor.
It’s just better to be kind.
To everyone who was nice to me today,
Thank you,
for letting my moment be a moment,
you helped me feel fine,
because that is what I’m going to be,
we all are going to be
fine.

You may say an herb is an herb,
a flower is a flower,
a succulent is just stiff,
and a plant is,
well,
what one needs from a plant is one’s own
definition of what a plant is.
Is it beautiful? Is it ****? Is it sweet? Or abrasive like a cactus?
Children play with dandelions and blow the dust
and make wishes.
Young teenage girls sob over boys
and pluck petals off of sunflowers to judge
if he loves them,
does he not.
A young couple has just unpacked every cardboard box from
their Ford Pickup Truck.
They have moved into a new apartment with no garden outside,
the succulents from the nearby art store are perfect for their kitchen.
The clay jar that holds the succulent
matches their fiesta dishes.
Now lets talk about that lavender.
The girl who has a degree,
that is now just a piece of paper before a career,
she does not know where to go next,
and is thinking too much, going too far, and has
no final destination.
You may say an herb is an herb,
made for tea and getting ******,
but when she sniffs lavender within
the oil and the bag of herbs,
she collects her thoughts,
her anxiety is ceasing,
and she knows
there will be an
answer.

I let you in my room and didn't ask to lay in my bed,
I let you walk with me to the cafe and treat us to a drink,
I let you hold and play some notes on my guitar,
I even let you change your mind and then rethink.
You have vanished from my life
I was clear that I didn't want you to
be gone.
Ever since I sent those letters,
I expected to hear, "never mind, I love you"
but instead I heard,
"so long".
You are harder than ever to replace,
I will breakdown and plead if I ever again see your handsome prince-like face,
I have to put new strings on my guitar they are oh so old.
But I know if I keep the string you played and made a sound,
it is too late because your soul is already again replaced and
sold.
There is someone new in your life I can just tell,
I'm pushing my mind to be happy and not think of losing you as
hell.
There were stories I never repeat but to you I had a show and tell,
well this is great, I'm living with something, and you are in a bed of roses
ever since you gave me your
farewell.
I'll never forget,
I only regret,
not learning before
loving.
So long, farewell, I miss your laughing,
to me you're a great model but to you I'm
worth slapping.
You wanted me for my face,
now I'm glad she took my place.
So, yeah,
bye.

I'll never laugh at a child
after they share a little song
they wrote themselves when it
sounds pretty serious and good.
I've received giggles out of a
discomforting moment.
I wasn't old enough to know I
was getting away.
Fleeing from misunderstood ones
and fighting to not have to all
be the same.
If a child came to me and asked me to hear
their song I'll nod my head, say yes,
and sit while listening with undivided
attention.
Sitting down to listen to their beloved
young lyrics reminds me that
you only get one childhood.
Children who write songs
don't know what they know.
They don't know that the
reason they feel happy afterward
is because songwriting is their key.
They don't know that the reason for feeling
embarrassed from being laughed at
is these are feelings translated to written words.
Folks don't know
that laughing at a child for singing
is refusing to let their key unlock
their uncertainty.
We'll all learn to listen and enjoy
one day
despite how young
and lack of skill an artist
may be.
How about a round of
applause?