Ruby children speaking with their eyes
asking why animals cry--
they feel emotion, ruby children,
they are much like you and I.
But I am made of ruby stone--
my skin is harsh and I've got no organs.

Ruby children speaking with their eyes
asking why humans cry--
they cry when they are overwhelmed
silly children.
Do animals cry like a human --
asked the ruby children.
Why yes they do, what a silly thing to conclude.

Why don't I cry--asked the ruby children.
That's because you're worth something--
You have no reason to.

I laugh at my vanity--
At my shadow.
I laugh at my manners--
And gestures--
And ***** ups--
If there was such a thing.
I laugh at the uncomfortable
the aggressive and the shy.

I laugh when my fears Eco off the walls.

and when it becomes oppressive
as if it desired to crush me
Into pieces of soot, and my eyes turn into old lens,
Blurring my vision from what's outside--

I laugh.

I want to feel real and raw and vibrate in my soul. I want to feel sticky, *****, vile and concrete. I don't want to be a concept routed in the mind of strangers. I want to breath and have that breath be taken away from me in an instant. I want to run my fingers over the gentle goose bumps of your inner being. I want to feel the essence of feeling not this stale stagnate limbo. I want to have the heavens brush my cheeks and crudely be thrown to the ground, radiating a violent smirk.

I like the soft spoken because they don't like to waste their time on the violent extroverts. They don't waste their time on people who don't listen. I'd like to think I'm that way too but I would be lying. I waste my time on annoying that moves but maybe there's some gentile genuine honesty in that.

I know what's
Beyond the curtains and It's just
an emptier room.

It's like I'm stuck
At the bottom of a well and all
I can mange to do is look up and
Shrug my shoulders.

Buildings crumble,
Sculptures fade,
Why make art if it always rains?