We are nothing that matters,
created in mystery
while slowly dissolving to dust.
Pretentions and delusions our comfort as reality bites with it's point filed teeth.

We are not made of stars, nor moondust, we are products of all that has gone before and the destruction of all that is yet to be. 

I yearn to see this life through a rearview mirror, it's withered form a speck on the far horizon, for the hurt to stop as this knife in my back plunges further into my sickened depths, severing my spine from all it holds dear. 

I yearn for silence, for these thoughts to stop spewing from my acid tongue, burning my unkissed lips with a million wasted words while attempting to say only one.

Minutes turn into months, decades of meaningless days and miniscule triumphs. 

The stage is set, my role is uncast but the curtain never falls, I stumble wildly through blind utterances, dreaming darkly, while anxiously awaiting the applause that will herald my passing.

This is not living.

Life has always seemed dark
the struggles made me
lose hope in everything

After a long streak of bad luck
hope" felt like a fiction
death was always on my mind
What if I just died
escape all this tragedy

Now i can see a light
not the one at the end of the tunnel
but just a light
the one that tells me good things are supposed to happen
not meant to happen

I can't hope for anything
my hope was swept away
but i feel like the light is telling me
*God has not forsaken you

You hear the buzz.
Your body is tense.
The needle goes in.
The ink flows.

You begin to relax.
Your mind wonders.
Black and grays.
Traditional.  Oriental.

It's mesmerizes your soul.
You are lost in the moment.
Minutes turn to hours.
It's all done.

It is there.
On your body.
For the world to see.
Permanent ink.

Words have power
They can reveal
our desires
They can be weapons
that tear another down
They can bring joy
and lift another's spirit
They can be used
to form laws
and bring justice
They can spread love
build empires
bring forth destruction
So choose your words wisely
Words have power

i start rambling when you touch me
not because i am uncomfortable but because i like the way you handle me

demanding my lips
your hands on my hips

you telling me special things
things i dare not mention

i get weak when you smile
not just because i love it but because i know we are both too shy
to say what we really mean

i put my hands in your pockets and tilt my head but look away
so many ***** thoughts but i don't think i can say

i just want you forever this way
what ever is left unspoken unimportant the rest of our days

i want this now
let's both hold hands and fly away

Bathed in a bruised fire-glow,
The gypsy's ball shows
The future.

A life for the wicked,
OH, the sins it depicted!
Nature wins.

I feel, in the soul, in the belly of the beast.
Flaming coals burning holes in canvas paintings of the East.
At least I know I've been learning captioned lullabies.
Uncovering truths as day by day the lyrics have come to unwind.

My dad is a rock,
He is tough, and I've tried.
But I hope that someday we'll find crystals inside.
Or he'll stop punching holes through the walls of people's lives.
With bleeding fists,
I wish his anger would find a cave and go hide.

My mom is like magma,
she sits and she steeps.
She takes rocks and she melts them into pools around her feet.
She erupts in spurts of vulnerable untruths,
And hot anger that scars, chars, and burns anyone standing close to her.
But when lava sits, and when it has dried.
From the infertile past battlegrounds,
Forests will rise.