I should be happy.

I woke up alive and well,
I should be happy.

I have new books to read,
I should be happy.

I have 490 songs on my iPod,
I should be happy.

I have good grades in school,
I should be happy.

I have friends who I can talk to and fangirl with,
I should be happy.

I'm young, I have my whole life ahead of me,
I should be happy.

I should be happy,
I'm not happy.

(a.d)

Honest John waits In his car.
peaks through his rear view mirror at the glass door. watching.
The engine is off.
cold air nips at his nose and ears.
ice caps cover grass.
the night pitch black
No moon in the sky.
few stars due to the city smog.

A Dim glow from inside the restaurant
Casts shadows in the parking lot.
She hides in them.

Rolling carts march uniform right on schedule
hauling trash to dumpsters just outside.
Honest john watches her slip on a Latex Glove.
*** a cigarette.
She doesn't want honest john to smell the cigarette on her hands.
He doesn't know.

Honest John's Phone buzzes.
He answers.
Told that "work is going late."
She "won't need a ride tonight."
"Won't be home tonight."
Honest John asks where she's going.

"oh, out with my lady friend.
Sarah, haven't seen her since high-school"

"Alright." Says Honest John.
"Have fun." He bit his tongue for the sake of not seeming Crazy again.
It wasn't very honest of him.

She climbs up into red Truck with
The man.
smoke billows out the windows as they screach off howling in the rearview mirror.

Honest John has always hated her lying.

John Loves Crying.
It's honest.
Not just his own tears.
Being the shoulder to cry on is johns momment of ecstasy.
Tears are Beautiful on everybody.
Nobody cries without a reason.

Alone John Smokes Djarum Blacks.

They're the most honest of cigarettes.
Don't paint themselves White
Try passing as innocent or pure.
Just Blatantly say
"Hey, we're way worse for you then a normal cigarette.
"This is slowly killing you"
John appreciates that
even though they're slowly killing him,
At least they are honest about it.

John speaks his mind.
Just as he beleives it.
won't risk leaving words
unsaid again.
but there is one word
he's troubled being Honest about.

Love.

Everytime he doesn't say it.
It kills him slowly.
which would be fine,
if love didn't lie.

i.

autumn’s leaves
scattered in pools,
a cloud of fine gold.

ivy scented skies
break free.

ii.

trees conjure dreams,
flow like a night breeze.

iii.

the sun is remote,
the fires of a wild sea,
damask shores
where we sink
to the floor....

iv.

sink further,
where quiet walls and skies
pierce our yearnings,
uncover a naked flame.