I can’t decide
if I’m comforted by the fact
that every thought  
I’ve ever had
has probably been had
before

And I don’t know
which is worse
That we are, perhaps
incredibly,
undeniably
not special at all
Or that we incredibly,
undeniably
are

Come take
your mind
on down
with me .

let our bodies
be canvases
to the tributes
of our
lives.

leave  
our old stories
like tattered
and worn
baggages

by the
door.

be each
others
savior for
awhile.

a old lover's
lament.

not trying
to fill in
each other's
water color
dreams,

with lies
or half
obligated
promises.

and finally
when the
late afternoon

comes to
swallow our
worn
innocence.

close the
door.

leave unsaid
the words
that must
be said.

return us
both with
some dignity


to the outskirts

of our lives.

Sometimes I go too  deep in my writing for others to understand
It's too much for them to take in
I'm not looking for praise
Or for money
But for expression of myself and others
So, they can relate and understand
That some of us go through things that only a dark fantasy can describe
And I'm sorry if its too much

When you broke my heart,
all of the pieces fell upon paper,
forming crooked lines and
I called it poetry.

A lesson hard learned
Is not too soon forgotten
Do you think of me?