Writer's block has clogged my mental pores
Oily ignorance I cannot ignore
Technology is fogging up my mind
Leaving me no time to unwind

I looked in the mirror today
And guess what I saw

My ugly, stunted imagination's face
Full of gross digital zits
I'm really starting to miss
My former wit
I've got to get out of this keyboard-y place

There comes a time
When you need to realize,
Child,
That you cannot hold
Someone's hand forever.
One day
You must pick yourself up
And face this world
With the power inside you,
Not borrowed stuff from His heart
Or from what's in that syringe.
From inside **You

Snowflakes.
Snowflakes that are each unique
Yet thousands upon thousands
Each it's own
Lie unfound
In a snowbank called Earth.
Just waiting to be admired
But in the end expire
As all life eventually does.

Friends are like
Moonlight
Showing you and guiding you
Down your path
And protecting you
From what's to come

friends are like

pebbles on a beach
sometimes the plain ones
are worth the most
but i've never been good
at the picking up the pebbles part
i worry i read into
i over compensate
i try to be chill
but i just act manic
because acting like
yourself
when you look in the mirror is hard enough, but with
real
live
actual people?
writing is easier
but my friends
the pebbles I've managed to keep in my pocket
are the smoothest
shiniest
flawed
exceptional
pebbles on the whole beach
and I've lost a few
picked up ones that weren't good
to me
as i was their pebble
but my friends are
the rocks
that keep me weighted
in the real world