We cannot touch fire
But we can use it
To warm ourself
To stay at night
We cannot live in water
But we can use it
To wash ourselves
To drink when we are thirsty
We cannot fly all the time in the air
But we can use flights
To move from one place to other
We cannot live forever on the earth*
But we can*
Continue to complete our tasks
And ends our journey
With the final flight

I found a hundred dollar bill
In the Target parking lot
Placed an ad with some guy named Craig
To find who's bill it was they lost

I truly am amazed
At the people calling me
And how many lose their money
Like it was grown on trees

When I asked the question of
Round about what date
There was silence on the line
Guess they really couldn't say

But they all swore up and down
That it was their hundred bill
I informed them all that I'd get back
As my phone would not stay still

I had so many heartfelt calls
That it made me think
Of this one grand idea
As I headed to the bank

I really felt so bad
For all the people and their woes
That I emptied out my account
Of all of it's doe

I looked all the people who called me up
And drove out to their place
It was worth the money
To see the joy on every face

Now I'm broke as I can be
No more money have I got
Spending the days left to me
Scouring the Target parking lot

searching for some odd sort of solace
and yet again,
i find myself writing words i don't really mean
to people i don't really know
about topics i've not really researched
all in the name: poem
this is not my war

it's like i'm standing naked on the front lines
all weariness and flesh
melancholic in my voice,
"take arms, and fight."
this was never my battle, but it rages in my mind
and my troops aren't gathering
my hands, too weak to hold up my blade
my pen
this is not my war

so, once again,
it's dark and i'm finding ways to poetically knife myself
without the blood and romance staining my bed sheets
and marking cryptic patterns on my wall
in hopes that my fellow aesthetes
will find them pleasing when i post them
this is not my war

and honestly,
i've never found anything beautiful about sunsets
because the dying of another day
didn't make me feel like stardust
but more like a handprint on a wall
being threatened with fresh paint
this is not my war

i'm not ready
this is not my war

I didn't go to your funeral
I tried to, but I couldn't
And I swear I still have nightmares
I can hear the way your hollow casket sounds
As dirt is piled above it
And the reality sinks in
I never let you go

i'm sorry about the way i fumble for words and breath, but i just can't catch my death i mean breath
and i'm sorry if this is weird but there are some people who mean more to me than i can express using any number of adjectives
and sometimes it scares me because my body was not made to hold this many hearts
there is impossible love in my fingertips and it will bless anyone who comes near me
i'm sorry for being a dreamer i'm sorry i got so close i'm sorry for holding galaxies in my hands but i want to be just like you when i grow up
and there are supernovas whispering behind your closed eyelids.
you cannot win acceptance from expectation i know this from experience
and maybe it's okay to be a little ****** up but i'm pretty sure my heart shouldn't ache in time with people who don't exist
i'm desaturated, not colorful enough i cannot handle pure cyan or magenta but give me olive,
give me chamoisee and i will breathe a little easier
paintings come in all shapes and sizes and rainbows i painted mine on my hands and fingers
i cannot help it if my acrylics mix with other people's watercolors
this is how i am
sometimes i go up to your front door and do not knock
i hope you will forgive me for this
i'm not in the habit of wasting breath but i will waste death until i have no more seconds and minutes and hours to do so
tell me you love me there is a heart shaped box in my chest
it is sandpaper against your palmprints but you will clutch it, fingers tight
curling in and around like it's a part of you
i'm not a geometry problem that you can solve i'm more complex than that there are wires
buried beneath my skin pumping iron through my body i'm more machine than flesh
but that doesn't mean i can't feel your hand in mine
i measure time in the beats of your heartbeat against mine
you watch me like a car crash, like i'm moving in slow motion but you still can't keep up
compartmentalize your love songs and love letters and love
your heart will stop beating if you just tell it that it can't feel anymore
i am a sea of compromises this was not the first one i have had to make and it will not be the last
but i promise you that when we're dust blowing through the desert
a thousand and one lifetimes away,
i will remember every second of you
and we will be constellations sewn into the galaxy
another fairy-tale to be read at night when our fears are loudest
and i will press my fingers to your neck to show you that your heart is still beating
i am a rainbow paint me onto your blank canvas like this is the last time we'll ever see each other
i'm not scared of how i am i'm just like everybody else
it's not my fault that i have love pulsing through my body like tidal waves
paintbrushes are rough against my rocky craters but i love them just the same
i will love you just the same.

One day both the hands

Decided to make a stand

Inviting both the feet

To where they all could meet

Down in the city park

To enjoy a pleasant walk

The feet both spoke out loud

We'll have to ask the mouth

He handles all of our affairs

From travel plans, to pedicures

From East to West, North to South

Here and there and there about

Gives everything we need

Through the chatter of his teeth

The ears they heard a roaring sound

And asked the eyes to look around

Of course it was the mouth

Telling them all to settle down

Who is it that gave the mouth control

Something that we may never know