death leaves
an awful aftertaste
that only surfaces
long after you've taken a sip

it will numb your senses
it will strip beauty off of things
it will blur the most beautiful photographs
it makes waterfalls out of your eyes

and in between
the night
and the daylight
it will wake you up
it will make you wonder
why it hurts so much

why you were given a taste
why you're still alive.

Silence
Is
Cement
Between
Words






,,,

there was a little mouse and he just longed to be

high up in the alps so he could learn to ski

he took at trip to switzerland where theres lots of snow

to the great big mountains where all the skiers go.



he bought himself some skies and some goggles to

and a thermal ski suit his favourite color blue

he took some skiing lessons till he got it right

ready for his go on the mountains white.



mouse he starting climbing till he reach the top

now the mouse was ready to began his drop

down and down he went down the mountain side

gathering his speed as he began to slide.



in and out bends with his skiing skill

he was having fun having such a thrill

mouse he reached the bottom as happy as can be

vowed he would return once again to ski

Here I am, so many times I fail you Lord.
Here I am, still standing through it all.
Here I am, even though I should be dead.
Here I am, still standing through it all.
Here I am, even though not because of me.
Here I am, because Christ has strengthen me.
Here I am, falling upon my knees in gratitude.
Here I am, a very broken man whom you use.
Here I am, even though I have fail you so much.

A trillion lights bid hasty reflection
The bowed following preordained paths to
cardboard suburbia , under jet fuel rain , gnashed
in misery , some oxycontin follower , worshippers of Herod , rock ***** payback in five dollar denominations
A trick , a spittle of ***** in a ladle drawing gold from a coat pocket
Like a child's first snow , the learners license , naked in city lake
Kings with chewed teeth , bottom feeders in search of a vein , convenient Christ for **** and Jane , peanut butter for crustless sandwiches and taxed brains
Anarchy dreams , Presidential schemes , Syrian children burnt beyond
recognition , American pregnant teens , what would Jesus do ?
He's left us to our own devices* ...

there are cars in the street
and music fills the night;
Les Trois Gymnopedies
are vibrating in the air
and I just don't have a care;
I'm going to melt away
even though I was never there;
my thoughts cannot quite finish
I think I might be sick
I'm going to **** myself tonight
at least, I hope,
I wish

i can't wait to get away from you, because you light a fire in every part of my body..... but not the good kind.