You,
Are my brother.
You,
Are my sister.

You are my tribe,
My people,
My Family.

To see the day,
Witnessing the ways we hate each other,
Thrusts a knife through my heart, and out the other side.

The weight of the world falls upon us when we see the loss of our brothers, our sisters,
Born of the same blood,
As you, and I.

I am not scared,
I am sad,
I am disappointed to see the ways,
The walls we build that separate us from the other.

There is no other,
Only Us.

You,
Are my brother.
You,
Are my sister.
You are all my family,
And my Blood.

To see the blood spilled for the sake of nothing,
Forsaken are we to each other.

Come together,
You and I.
Come, my sister,
Come, my brother.

We shall stand,
Hand in hand.
until the day we fly.

~Robert van Lingen

The raindrips are dropping outside for a change,
some way I still feel them draining through my decrepit veins.

Thunderous applause for the storms that wage,
The wars that I've paid for with my strayful ways, day after day.

Come now,
Come play in the swaying waves forming aside my imminent lines,
The ones that play and play on,
Bouncing and rebounding around inside my mind(s).

Tip, typing away,
Fueled by the fires outside this time.
Each of these rampant keys seal away the pains that fray these frail heartstrings.

Filling the gutters with the utterances that speak the futile fightings,
Flying through the air,
With the nimbus lighting my way through the faintest of nighttime scenes,
Hoping these barely discernable dreams are the ones that will see me through the day.

Easing my restless heart with the chaos rains that thunder and pour,
They sway my mind to sleep.

Pray,
that it will all be over soon,
or perhaps,
even today.

In this new,
internal extrospection,
my out-of heart experience.

I realize who I've been,
what I've seen,
and how I've made myself bleed,
and others too...

I am Sorrowful.
I am thankful.
I am in pain.
I am hopeful.

Flooded by invisible tears and searing pain at the same time,
and even a hidden happiness,

I won't pretend to know.

I won't pretend to show just how I feel,
or just who I am.
Because I don't know.

All I know is,

I am.

My heart is the lo-fi beating,
My mind the static,
While my soul is the sea in which they swim.

Let's take advantage of this chaos peaceful state of mind,
And write a few little stories.

Forget the little pills bottles,
I'd rather love these words more than every day anyway.

But Zoloft does kind of roll off the tongue,
especially when I spit it out.

In this way I see these too,
The cohesive clumps of rabid thoughts,
Running, scampering, dancing of their own tune,
Careless of any other.

I try to decipher this life where it all makes sense,
To everyone but me.
To breathe in the same winds as the hints of a summer's bloom,
means to me,
not the same as you.

Brooding at the corner of my unkempt bed,
Imagining, the latter days where I may have just stepped aside,
To cry inside,
but in plain view.
To decipher these nights where nothing makes sense,
Makes sense,
To me,
and to you.