They say we are dust
I wish that was literal
Me, a particle; part of a pyramid somewhere in Egypt
Firmly holding an architectural mystery together for thousands of years
Maybe that would have been better than struggling to hold this 23 year old life together.
Why is this dust flesh?
Why does this flesh have breath?
Why is this breath soul?
They say we are dust
I wish that was literal.

Breakups are for the brave:- those who do not fear to continue their lives alone when the bi-cycle ends and their ride or die leaves when the ride has died.

Those courageous enough to carry themselves up when their lover lets them down and those valorous enough to accept that they will never hear words of the person that called them dear because those words now deafen the heart’s ear.

Breakups are for those ready to be the latest lionhearted lonely losers—the spunky sobbing second-soulmate-seekers.

No coward can part with the person that pats their body parts when life poses pitiless; no one has ever said “it’s over” and meant it without being valiant-

and so, the next time you feel you are done, I hope you will be brave enough to be done.

It takes three seasons to go by
for angels to look at the earth, and in the fourth, they cry.
Their hearts bleed at the sight of humanity’s pain and they can’t help but let loose their tears as rain.

“Maybe!” they shout to each other, “if we cry a little harder we can show
that the flowers that dried can once more grow.”

‘Pitter-patter’, they pour and pour
so every heart that’s heavy may know—
that though the world grows dry with sorrow
we still have angel tears to borrow.