i want to be here for
the ugly.
the inopportune,
the odious.
moments when
your back breaks
from carrying
a heavy load,
when your heart bursts
from the inside,
when your tongue
becomes toxic.

i want to
plant hydrangeas
in the crevices
of your spine,
rose bushes
in your heart,
peonies in your mouth,
so that when nurtured,
you are able to stand,
able to love,
able to speak of yourself
splendidly.

know that this
is never ending.

know that even when
my hands grow weary,
and
my knees become
scabbed and
dirt- covered,
i will happily
wipe the sweat
from my aching brow
and tend to you.

because all of the ugly,
the inopportune,
the odious,
will be forgotten,
the moment
you begin
to blossom.

Your heart is not a bureaucrat,
waiting on tax returns.

Nothing is in writing,
nor verbal contract.
The only inking is flushed skin upon contact.

It is implied.
It's the high road.
It's when the bed shakes during a storm;
It's when the grass grows again in the morning.

I looked into the forest
An urge of wanting to run through the trees sparked through my mind.
Run without ever stopping
till it becomes the very last memory of my disappearance.
I'll go into the places men have never been
The dark places men fear
For darkness is where depression hides
I'll Watch from a distance how the absence of my existence affects the ones I love.
Life will move on.
The absence of one person doesn't make the world wait.
While I await life to move on,
I turn green with the sickening surrounding of nature,
Depression keeps me company and away from the fruits of survival(food).
The ground beneath me becomes colder by the day.
And as time comes were I am forgotten enough from the hearts of the ones I care about,
my heart becomes empty from the absence of their love.
Depression
my only friend
takes pity on me.
fills the emptiness in my heart with darkness and lead my heart to a state of tranquility
As my heart goes
Beat-beat, beat-beat
Beat-beat
Beat
And then
Silence.

the poet saying things u have to
lean in to hear;   profound &
prophetically ponderous - - - - -
the comedian must make u laugh
or she has failed completely; &
ends playing tragic femme fatales:
the politician, talks & talks & no
one tells him shut the **** up