It's quite peaceful
To be in nature.
It's also gets
Boring cause nothing
Happens,
sometimes you need this.
Sometimes you need
*** and soda,
With some ice and a hing
Of lime.

It's like a dance,
You know.
Life seems to move
From good to bad
From bad to good.

It's a trip

And like all trips it
Has an end.
And also a middle
And maybe this trip comes
With free drinks, drugs
And love to go around.

****

I am slowly *******
Last night I took out my metal
For I could not stand the weight
During years now
Am I washing off smeared make-up from my face
I think it's beginning to show my skin
Sometimes I speak and the echo brings my own voice back to me
It sounds so much calmer than I remembered
My hair has been growing back its color
It tickles on my shoulders

I'm getting there
It's terribly slow and difficult
But I think I'm finding myself

Running through the parking lot
I keep racing.  
I can't stop.

Slowly I'm collapsing.
The blood runs down my arm.
I scream. I laugh.
My spirit isn't alarmed.

My hair is askew
My laughter fills the air.
After all I've been through,
I'm glad that he's not there.

But soon a shadow approaches.
I glance down at my stained hand.
I try to run, but he grabs my shoulders, I am not strong enough to stand.  

He holds my arm and looks at me
As tears run down his face.
"What the hell were you thinking?
You could never be replaced."

My laughter was gone
As soon as his tears escaped.
And so, as he holds me tightly,
I stare down at my knife
Now a foreign shape.

I pull free and throw it
As far as I can manage.
I take a deep breath in
As we go to repair the damage.

This elder body is held together by year's of farmer straw and hay, by mud
By clay.
In the simplest way I'm young though gray
There is no night and day
Or in-between fine lines.
When you get this age
Every day is a day of your last and a time of remembering good times.

The winds they whisper everything,
But tell me nothing.
Every sense I still can't feel,
is hidden in the trees.

I can't get lost in mother earth
If she spit me from her womb.
A rebel born,
In a universe with no room.

The earth herself,
The sky so unknown.
With no history of man
Has made us her home.

hours pass
don't know how much longer
my heart can last
it's bleeding leaks into being
sadness felt, uncertainty's within me
this is important, don't let me rot away
this is important, don't let me become
the afterthought I believe myself to be