It's funny because
I loved you and
you always told me that
you loved me too,
but now it's her house you show up
unannounced at, just to surprise her.
So now I'm sitting here laughing
because I've realized that I am the
punchline to your favorite joke.

- R.H.

I fell in love with a witch, yes a witch
It must be a spell she cast on me
It must be.. It must be
She makes my heart pound, head swell and my body sweat
She wakes me up happy and full of energy
Whether she smiles or frowns
I still find her ****
She glows in the dark
Not because she's using Olay cream
But because her beauty lights up the room
She dresses terrible
Which makes her terribly perfect
She also has a black cat
She's a wizard with all of that
It must be a spell she cast on me
*It must be.. It must be

The artist picked his inspiration.
The artist found his muse.
He fell in love with her,
But his love was refused.

Until he painted a picture so beautiful
She shed the tears of love.
He need speak no words
Through the painting she would blush.

She was a permanent solution
To a problem many artists face.
He had a troubled life,
And she put him in his place.

Their love was natural,
Their love was pure.
She too had a disease,
But he was the cure.

She would stare into his hazel eyes,
While he stared back into her blues.
It wasn't but three months,
Before they said “I do”.

The touch of her lips
Felt like heaven in his hands,
They would lock lips
For hours on end.

Her hands brought comfort,
Her smile brought joy.
She was so desirable
She was like Helen of troy.

Once dark paintings he made,
Now make the saddest person smile.
He developed a sense of positivity
It became his well known style.

But life is not a happy story,
It has no happy end,
Misery accompanies joy,
They're like two best friends.

The love was still there,
But only in his brain.  
She wanted out,
No matter the pain.

She packed up and left,
Leaving nothing behind.  
While he went out for flowers
To bring back to his lovely wife.

No note was written,
No trace of where she'd gone.
He waited for days,
Wondering what he did wrong.

They say real men cry,
So he must be the manliest of men
He felt his heart break,
And his brain snap from its stem.

He trashed his house,
He trashed his paintings.
He punched the walls
And his body began shaking.

He stabbed his work
He screamed to the sky
He fell to his knees
And began to cry.

From that day forward
He remarried to *****.
He was never a winner,
He was always meant to lose.

Once a popular painter
Because of his happy work,  
Now only paints sadness
Like he did before he found her.

I always come to you when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife
Sometimes i can’t sleep, i lie awake in my bed
Staring at the sky, dark, like the thoughts in my head
I, often, wonder what happens to the soul when you die
Does it roam free in paradise..can it walk, can it fly?
Will i see my grandparents, uncle, and father there?
Will anyone on earth even notice or care?
Will my body just rot on this bed that i made
While memories of me so soon they will fade
The answer to these questions, i won’t know for a while
So i’ll keep pretending as i walk around with a smile
Because i don’t have the guts to put a blade to this wrist
And i don’t have a gun to blow my brains into bits
So, i’ll keep living the same day every day
And turn to you when i have something to say
Because it’s you i come to when i’m tired of life
Sticks and stones break bones, words cut like a knife..

The flickering light of the lantern’s flame
lays lightly upon the lingering stream.
I do not know where the water leads,
but I’ll drink my fill till the aches subside.
The moss grows rampant among the trees
in this mighty forest that eyes have forgot.
And still I sit, watching it grow
until the words in the songs of birds grow clear.
The heartbeat of the soil slowly churns
beneath my bunions and well-traversed heels.
The sky won’t fall, so I have time to wait.
Just like the ferry, tethered to the old dying walnut.