My life is not as big as our grandfather's river who tried to plant trees in his sand. Legend has it that he dug a river at the moment of migration, so he called it (huff), and because he went to the sand, his land was bare. He colored its skin with a beautiful green full of milk.  Despite all the palm trees he planted around it, you can recognize my sandy face. Now I am not in the bare land, but its dry winds color my dreams.

Laughter and Loneliness
Fill the streets of towns
Some cuddle in comfort
Or
Linger on the lone ledge
And these events are caused by
Those that bury their heart in others
Those that bury their heart in emptiness
But remember
We all must carry shovels
So don’t mind the blisters
Or the uneven handle
Or the dulling of such a tool
For we can dig ourselves
Into anything
And out of everything

there are roses growing
from my hands
My doubt the seeds
Begging them to grow

There are roses climbing
up my arms
digging in my skin
but i am numb
to their thorns and beauty

There are roses growing
in my lungs
bloodied petals
filling my throat
and falling from my lips

Tears are sliding
down my cheeks
I've had enough
I am to weak

It might not be the right thing to do,
But it's the thing I wanna do.
And even though it would be better for me,
I can't live knowing I had this option too.

I lost myself
Living in a prison of your creation
But when I found me
I found beauty and zest

He didn’t love her for her body.

He loved her for the way she belted out the wrong lyrics while blasting music driving down the highway.

He loved her for the way her eyes brightened like stars on a cloudless night when she saw him.

He loved her for the way she twirled around in her pretty blue dress, barefoot on the soft grass.

He loved her for the way she fumbled over the piano keys, creating a barely recognizable melody.

He loved her for the way she woke up on an early morning, all grumpy and confused, wrapped up tight in a blanket.

He loved her for the way she splashes around in the ocean, kicking the water at him and motioning for him to join her.

He loved her for the way she loved him.

He didn’t love her for her body.

He loved her for her careless, sloppy soul.