There is                                               a twisted                                                   tree
    in the distance..                            with branches                                   reaching
     toward the                                      sky, forever                                  searching
        for the hand                              of God to come                                and fix the
       tormented                                   twisting limbs...                          to save it from
    the men that                                    want its bark                                and its heart
  and its old                                         and ancient                                     soul...but to
     its dismay                                        the tree does                                   not receive
       the help it seeks                           from the god it                            searched for
          and waited for                          and prayed to                          and hoped
                for in the dead                   of the night and                  the sting of
                       the day...                      because the god            it was expecting
                               turned               his back so long ago      that the
                                       whole earth forgot that he was real...so
                                            why is it, tree, that you still search
                                                for this god that has forsaken
                                                    us all? could you hold
                                                    an ancient truth buried
                                                    in your twisted frame?
                                                    I see this tree far away
                                                    Standing­ alone against
                                                    The starry sky, and I
                                                    Wonder how it got there
                                                     And how it has stayed
                                                    So long...It is then that
                                                  I notice the eerie whispers
                                               on the wind, coming from the
                                             archaic tree...and I realize that the
                                    god to which it begged for helo really did exist
                          because it he didn't, that beautiful, tattered, twisted tree
                 would have                                                             ­      been gone
                 years before                                                           ­      I could've
                    stumbled                            ­                                     upon its
                        grace...

This is the place where
                                                     No one sleeps
                    Nightmares walk the halls
                                           You can come in
     But never leave.
                                                       They watch through windows
                     Noting every movement
Whispering so we can't hear--
                    Judging us.
                                                                                  Treatments never end
                                          Sedated to numb the pain
            Of being fried
                                                              From inside out.
                  Barbaric, prehistoric methods
                                                                                To heal the wounded mind
           Of the sad and schizophrenic ,
                                               Silence voices, erase memories.
         Animals become human again
                                                                                     But those who don't take well
                               Turn from person to monster
  Feral, feared, and broken.
                                                                  Pills shoved down my throat
                       Hazy vision,
                                                             Numb and neglected
   Left shaking on my bed.
                                                                                No windows in the rooms
                             A box without light or sound or hope,
     Souls die in this place
                                                                             Hearts rot in this place.
                            Rejects of the world unite
                                                                                                All silent in their sorrow
               Each alone in the crowd
                                                   With a story sadder than the one before
                                    Wasting away by the day
      On the second level
                                                        Of elevator B.

What is it that you dream of
When I lie in your arms
Wide awake in the darkness
As I stare through your sleeping eyes.

The years slide through my memory
I pause on those spent with you
Savoring the sweetness
Trying to kindle them anew.

As you toss and turn
I feel the gap between us grow
So many feelings with no name
Too much history to start from scratch.

I cling to your body in desperation
Hoping the physical closeness
Will mend the metaphoric void
It's a child's dream, so fragile, so blind.

You almost wake when I squeeze too tight
If I loosen my grip will I lose you?
I risk it and my fears are realized
As I watch you drift out of reach...

Helpless
Drowning in these dreams
I'm ripping open
At the seams
Now nightmares roaming free
I cannot breathe
I cannot see.

Scared
Running out of time
I find no reason
Find no rhyme
To explain the way I feel
As my monsters
Become real.

Broken
Searching for the piece
To make this puzzle
Be complete
That night is gone
I can't remember
Summer gone
It's now December.

Cold
I feel my heart begin slow
I feel a sickness
Start to grow
Within my mind
Within my soul
I stare inside and lose control.

Tired
Eyelids heavy as the night
I see you
Though you're out of sight
I cannot breathe
Without you here
This life I live
Is what I fear.

Dead
The bottle in my hand
I'm dizzy
Can no longer stand
It's over
Finally I can smile
You know
I haven't for a while.