Ripped, torn. My trust was yours and you slashed it apart.

Bleeding, unborn, broken, I wandered in sea of lost

Colors, never. They faded like black blood.

Greyer days i’d never seen, like grey and silken mud.

Sunken, food was never tasted, so I rejected it.

Skinny, crude, lazy, Wallowing in pain
of loosing
you.

My future was a pinprick of light and a hell hole of darkness between me and ending.

But in the darkest place of my longest night. When my bones showed through this endless fight.

I lit a flame and color formed. I burned my shame and cut the chord.

I sent you love and felt more whole. Not healed not better, but for my soul,

It meant something.
And now i see, i planted a seed but not a tree…

But now so long now has time come through.

The light is bright and colored too!

The glowing gold of sun and sky shine through the green of leaves that i,

cultivated and let be fed, with glories of this world, undead…

Reborn and breathing in the sight. Of all the beauties, and all the right….

My wounds i stiched with a single thread, a needle *****, but no blood bled.

The glowing hues of days to lead, began to water and warm my seed.

Now every ******* day it grows.
Even the nights, a blue black rose.
And my love is back.
The world wants me,
and the odds are stacked.

I’m here you see!

existing, thriving, held, a dove.

My branches lifting, flying, above.

I see you now, not far away.

Living on as we do every day.

I love you still, but not like before.
I can see your body and not need more.

Because i light the fire inside myself.

I don’t need another to put me on a shelf.

I am whole as I am, in breaking and birth.

This tree that is me will increase in girth.

And the colors get brighter, because the heart is sewed tight.

My tree exhales wonder,
rainbows in sight.

My spirit doesnt fit for long
It needs room to wander
For all of my many lifetimes
I meander and merge
Migrate and congregate
Relate and perpetuate

i breath
And i shift
My soul doesn't settle
Feathers frantic, curving rains
Tops of mountains, secret caves

It doesn't understand weight,
Light and free forever wandering
Forever lonesome, but relishing the clean stinging pain,
The solo sunrise
Boots on the ground.
New smiles to see
Best friendships lasts 5 minutes
Get a bright flash of me.
Thats all you need.
A streak, a shooting star
to pierce and uplift and connect and remember
Then off and out and alone

Sometimes my soul thinks it belongs
It holds on
It exhales
Breathing out all the air and tries to sink
To touch the bottom.
To remain, to be heavy and constant
A stone not a leaf,
But then no air. The drowning feeling. Panic and pressure and then the numbness creeps in. Conform, accept. Belong, work, remain, stop flowing, stay the knowing.
The weight of the water is warm and dull, crushing, aching,
Forgetting the joy of breath,
And lightness.
Forgetting my nature
Only taking comfort in the constance of depression
The hopeless relief of daily dying

Losing touch with the
Complimentary life
We perpetuate the infinite
Chain of pain
Feeding the machine with
Comforting lies

Doubly bound at birth
We take fake solace in
Futility
Nursing our delusions on the
Cancers of
Self-pity and
Fear

Indiscriminately succumbing to
Our own exaggerations
We never would have guessed
That the way out was
Also the way in

As we began to discover
The path to Truth
The mysterious terrain
Necessitated an
Uncomfortable acceptance of
Our inevitable insecurities
and
In the End
Letting go was not a choice

Deconstruction has begun
The terror of becoming
Fragmented
Grows into hysteria
And eventually
Surrender
Darkly taking solace
in Comedy
As the puppet master
Chisels lines into your face

Forgetting who you
Used to be
Yielding to chaos

I'm so happy-
I've masturbated until I can't feel
and that's okay.
My hair is brittle;
the water's iron and so are you-
your love's a mess.
God is angry
because he doesn't have to exist
to be real.

Hipsters ruined liking Wes Anderson-
Bill Hicks was brilliant
and everyone is an intellectual.
Your ideas aren't yours-
your words are mine
and mine are yours.
Writing to be antidepressed,
because singing is for the shore,
for your shore.

Let's pick each other's psychology,
like we're removing clothes
or missing ads,
and get lost in each other's darkness,
because, "I love you,
I suppose.
I suppose."