I take the last boat on the Icchhamati River.

the huddled shadows in the gloam
talk of home
a waiting bed
before climbs the moon overhead.

In little comforts voices bask
amid oars sloshing the night
and  I brood in silence
neath the  northern star

how far is home
how far?

Have you ever thought about falling in love with a poet?
It's such a simple notion because they too are people just like you
but the ability to constantly immortalize
Is that not attractive?
If you fall in love with a poet
alive you'll be for eternity
in a world that you
never could imagine
but one that they imagined you in.
It's a simple thought and a simple attraction that made an intricate
impact on their lives.
You are the reason they write
the reason that they can so innately describe what it is to be in love.
It's nice, isn't it?
To fall asleep knowing that this person is still awake writing about
how much more they're going to love you the next day.
Writing about the moment that you first caught their eye
the moment that they knew you too loved them.
Falling in love with a poet is a guaranteed way to live forever in their mind
to be the muse that they'll always use
to be the one person they'll never abuse.
Falling in love with a poet would be the adventure to end all
because in every word you would exist through 6 or 7 lifetimes.
So fall in love with a poet
because not only will their words convince
they're guaranteed to show it.

A hair fell from my eyebrow
and landed in my eye,
it caused my eye to water
just like when you cry.

I cleaned it with my finger
which made this small hair slip
it landed underneath my nose,
just above my lip.

I hadn't noticed where it went
it lay there on my face,
and over time it rooted
and then multiplied this place.

I started scratching at the spot,
I thought I had a rash
but when I looked more closely
I found I had a moustache.

It was as I point out to you
protruding out of the skin
and spread out over many days
and now its on my chin.

I know I didn't have a rash
and it was as I feared
I never only had moustache,
now I had a beard.

This spreading still continues
and I don't think that it's fair
for from my head to toenail
I am now covered in hair.

I've tried so hard to cut it off
and every time I fail
but what is really worrying
is now I have a tail.

So if you see a hair that's loose
and resting on your face
I do suggest you take it off
before it grows some place.

Cause when this hair gets rooted
you see how it can take over
and it is so embarrassing
when people call you Rover.

I don't know what is happening
but when I'm in the park,
I run around, I lick my nuts,
I growl and I bark.

There are two types of pain:
One that hurts you
And one that *changes you

And
I cannot help but wonder,
how much more
there can be
to endure.
How many more
oceans of silence
must I sail?
How many more
deserts of nothingness
must I drag myself across?
How many more
hopeless forest fires
must burn through me?
I am strong
and
I will stay so,
but still
I wonder
when the horizon
will give way
and I can say
it is over
at last.

I break my words, lost my world
Twisted over the days and took baths too long
My selfishness overcame who I ever was,
and I could keep spiraling down into self pity
I thought "It doesn't matter, I shouldn't worry about me."
When I realized I should be the first to worry about me,
and I should worry about me first.
Everything has been so eye opening, but now I can't stop to
close my eyes and escape from the confusion and rage
I wish it all could just stop,
So I can relive the days
when I cared about the sunrise,
and my eyes were so much brighter