We live in a world filled with disposable things
made to be used once, but seldom more than twice
with little or no attachment, we consume mindlessly
single-serving coffee or single serving relationships, it's all the same

We've learned to measure value in terms of convenience

Instant gratification comes with a price, but one we gladly pay
disposing of the evidence neatly and quietly, the carcasses
monuments to a purpose well served; vacant hearts never filled
material things only heal wounds superficially, but

nothing lasts forever, right?
*Our soulless smile, just another by-product of living a disposable life

i can't help but feel sad
over all the people i'll never get to meet.
never feel the calloused hands that have turned the earth inside and out
never see the eyes of those who have chased the sun, moon, and stars
never trace the constellations they weave in their heads.

this world is overrun with beautiful souls
but not enough me-
why can't i have more hands to hold the ones stretching out to me?
why can't i have more legs to carry me further across?
let me meet them halfway
between "what i know" and "what i could know."
let me go
i beg of you
please let me go.

there are so many beautiful souls
but not enough me-- not enough me.

so instead i will embrace the bodies before me
i will hold out my frail hands
and read theirs like they're the last book i'll ever read.
i will be afraid to blink
in hopes of watching every sunset they extend.
i will carry their hearts wherever i go
and wear their lives through each season.

Dr Dr help me help!
Thou who art so skilled
Slice me
Air out my insides
There place the health
Stuff it in
As much as you can find
Or at least a scrap
Please, a scrap
Sewn up I'll bulge
Sparkles lacing taut skin

But they hold it up
Towering above grabbing hands
I slump on the conveyer belt
Through box after box
As DING!
"Healthy"
Each proclaims
And shoves me to the next

I'm clutching at my sides
To hold me together
Sickness seeping through
To reach them
I sway in doorways
Please, who will help me?
Please, someone listen
I'm losing hope,
**please

it is all a little --- without you.
I wouldn't say empty. necessarily.
just a little less
full.
of course I want to
get over you.
but when you're finally out
of my head
what beauty will there be left
in it?
for you are always the best thing,
the last thing,
on my always troubled mind.
and it is a little
???
without you --
and if I move on I might just get
a little bit lost
and a whole lot
of time.