You asked me if money buys happiness
                                      and for the first time
                                   I didn't have an answer.

                           On the surface my answer is yes.
                               but the question is ineffable.
                                         money can buy
  what you want
           when you want
                     and where you want.
                                   but money can't buy
                                                                    trust
                                                                           honesty
                                                                                       and love.

                                     Money is nugatory
                          when happiness means everything.

money provides
temporary joy
for a life that's infinite.

                         you asked me if money buys happiness
                                          and i said yes
                   because no amount of money can explain to you
                             that our thoughts are filled by
                                    the suffocating sum
                                  of what money created.

We will forever want
what we can't have
and think the words
we will never get to say.

I love my bed and my blankets
Because I know they will never leave my side.
Even so, I lay on my floor.

Her hands were soft and delicate, a carnivore's feast.
The burning ember captivated her gaze, too numb to notice.
Kyoto is a fragile porcelain bowl, cradling centuries of memories.
“Please, let’s go to Kyoto.”
Her eyes meet mine, too lost to be here.
“That’s not my name?”

Life around me swelling,
white snowy casts in the airs purr
water dripping from old rooftops,
and the birds' quiet sonnets.

old fish swimming in
nothing but frozen water
forced below the surface,
engulfed in winter air.

wandering the streets
childrens feet skipping cracks
falling lightly against concrete,
a family of lost hope, a child with no mother.

the buzzing breaks the silence
eyes wandering every sight
feet dragging but not walking,
breathing but not living.

deteriorating plants and street cats,
staring but not looking
heavy vision but not seeing,
the only consistent thing,
is the ringing.