When the screaming finally stops,
and you are left with yourself,
you must find a way to come to peace with that.
Be afraid to be alone,
but do it anyway
This is your way of loving

I get up even when I don't want to
God thank you for my life
and the courage to keep putting
one foot in front of the other

I am a borrower
collecting things that shine
all stashed in cracks and hidey-holes
where the rafters meet the roof
in the basement floorboards
lift one and you'll see
the treasures I've collected
two gorgeous glassy eyes
seven gilded antique buttons
a bouquet of sweetly fragrant lilies
a gleaming jar of pixie dust
three noble barristers
an Irishman netting butterfly dreams
a sorceress of the endless prairie
windmills like soldiers all in a line
the saddest porcelain doll
a small brown bear
trains screaming by on underground rails
a sprinkling of desert blooms
six jack-in-the-boxes so I'm always surprised
the hairless stuffed dog that bit me as a child
a Rickenbacker bass softly riffing the blues
a farmer's Ovation to accompany my woes
seashells that sing the ocean breeze
a merman from the Northern seas
tucked away in every space
packed within each sweet hollow
these simple pleasures I have borrowed

I can feel the gravity around me
I can hear your blood moving in this echo of silence
The impossible smoothness of a voice, impossible to exist, silky like the whisper of a breeze
The world is huge but so small in this moment, time stands still and if we try, counting the exact number of stars in the inky blue sky would be feasible
We are of the dark, fire flies burn away the sounds of the city at 5:16AM
Electric blue eyes see your face in neon detail, slightly shaking hands trace their definition of perfection
What if the ozone shattered, but breathing isn’t for anyone who’s seen the universe thru rose colored contacts
Have you ever tasted air so sweet you could feel the glucose in your flesh?
Have you ever felt the forest only thru your feet?
Heard the sigh of May?
The sky changes color with our breath, glass eyes begin to close
We’re sleepy so flowers grow in our bones, waiting for this town to wake