Let my heart be your compass.  Reach my soul in the clouds.  
Let my tears lead you home and my fears etch the sky.
Take my hand, take me far.  

Feed me your dreams and your darkest thoughts.  
Don’t let my mask hold you back.  Don’t let this smile stab your sorrow.  
Guide me now, to tomorrow.

Map my body, travel its curves.  Penetrate my mind, capture its soul.  
Cloud my memory with your voice.  
Sail with me, catch my fall.

Let my words creep down your spine.  Let my tongue caress your mind.  
Give me life and paint my dreams.  
Climb my ambitions, don’t look back down.

Get me high on a beautiful nightmare.  Drown me in lust, ****** my worries.  
Steal my heart and lock it up.
Aim your arrow, shoot it straight.

if I should ever leave this town
I'll never change my ways to fit the plan of success
but rather use success as Play-Doh and mold it into what I want it to be
beautiful like the sea with wild waves crashing along with shores
or silent like the moon; forever following the earth with loyalty
forever holding the hands of the ones I love
never changing no matter who discovers me
no matter how many small steps for man or giant leaps for mankind may happen to occur upon the crevices of my very being
I will not crumble under those who try to walk all over me
but I will walk with confidence
and confide in those whom I love my deepest secrets
making sure that they become my diary
and "dear diary," I will say
and they will remain dear to my heart because I will end with "love always"
and always "diary" will now be synonymous for rock
for they will be the rocks I lean on when I’m stuck in a hard place
and when they're stuck in the grand canyon
I’ll be the rocks they'll grab on to, to climb to the top
and also the rope to pull them up when their hands slip
because you can only hold on to so much at one time
and I’ll also act as a backpack
and carry as much for them as I can
I’ll always have their back
because nobody has eyes on the back of their head to see what’s coming your way when you're not looking
a sort of "night vision" goggles for life
for the evils that they can't see
evil vision goggles for evils trying to evade into the molding of their very own success
and "dear diary" I will say if I happen to fail
maybe the Play-Doh was left out too long and dried up before the success was built
but sometimes tears can wash away the sadness, or bring back life to your Play-Doh
so it’s okay to fail and let your plans turn ever so frail
because you can be like the moon: loyal and quiet
but you can be like the sea too
you can reach for the shore again and again, trying to grasp your dreams with hands like liquid, salty from tears
and this can happen over and over until a strong wind or an earthquake in your soul erupts causing you to gain strength and take the world by storm
proving that you are more than a just follower
but you will still always follow your dreams

TWO loves had I. Now both are dead,
And both are marked by tombstones white.
The one stands in the churchyard near,
The other hid from mortal sight.

The name on one all men may read,        
And learn who lies beneath the stone;
The other name is written where
No eyes can read it but my own.

On one I plant a living flower,
And cherish it with loving hands;      
I shun the single withered leaf
That tells me where the other stands.

To that white tombstone on the hill
In summer days I often go;
From this white stone that nearer lies
I turn me with unuttered woe.

O God, I pray, if love must die,
And make no more of life a part,
Let witness be where all can see,
And not within a living heart.

It was late into the night
When Bert Ernie and I
Were traveling across the plans of Nebraska

Much to my surprise
Bert looks me straight in the eyes
And says Mike, I gotta question to ask ya

With Big Bird wrapped up in the trunk
You'd think that he'd already thunk
About this night long before it already happened

When we took Oscar the Grouches can lid
And whacked Big Bird smack dab in the head
Then tied him up tight while he was napping

We rolled him out to curb
Believe me it looked quite absurd
Ernie grunting with Bert complaining as feathers went flying

But as would be our fate
Able to make our planed escape
When Count Von Count took time out to do some feather counting

So this is now where we are
Bert, Ernie, Me, and Big Bird in the trunk of our car
Not really knowing where it is we are heading

Our thinking went only as far
As nabbing Big Bird and the get away car
Putting Ernie in charge wasn't such a good idea is what I am betting

Ernie says he's figured it all out
Bert says we need this, but still has his doubts
Cause Bert owes back pay alimony and Ernie his ******

We head to Ernie's planed drop off spot
And of course it's swarming with cops
While our inside man " The Monster " gave us up for Cookies

They let Big Bird out of the trunk
Who proceeded to slap us punch drunk
Then straight to the judge to pay for this hideous crime

I can't think of any worse fate
I now know this was a fatal mistake
The sentence...
Banished to Sesame Street for life, now that is hard time

Hurt.
It hurts that you could leave me.
Over and over, again and again.
The same old scratched record,
being wound to play in a
room long forgotten

Pain.
I imagine that when my
heart broke for the first time,
fragile and innocent and young,
it dropped pieces into my hollow body.
So that every time it skipped a beat,
every time it ached in pain,
every time it swelled to burst,
I would feel it in between my toes,
wedged behind my knee caps,
stuck against my groin,
and resting in my fingertips.

Love.
It's supposed to be the glue.
Meant to stitch us together,
different patches of the same quilt.
But when left for us to define,
love has become acid.
Burning holes through our skin,
leaving us marked, marred, and scared to trust.
It is the venom coursing through the veins
of those bitter and dead to the world.
The air that fills the lungs of people
too afflicted by life's tragedies to carry on.

Thought.
You tried to hide behind it. You tried
to build walls out of your impressive vocabulary.
You fed yourself textbooks
and decided to learn the meaning of life.
Inside you pushed away your pain
and you replaced it with logic, but instead of feeling full,
you simply found yourself a new kind of emptiness.

Alone.
So tonight we lay in separate beds,
staring up at the stars and wondering
how they could possibly stay the same,
when everything else in our worlds
has become so very different.

I miss when Jane didn’t smoke.

She sneaks under morning’s cloak

Goes to class and laughs

With an empty head

At my empty joke.

Empty is the ***** flask

I pretend not to notice

Tucked into her lunchbox

So I stare at her sandwich instead

No crusts

A housewife’s handiwork

There's no use pretending anymore.

We are empty

We are fading

And she is faded

And I am waiting

In the food court of a failing mall

While she is debating

Whether or not to give it all

To another blue-eyed boy

Because he made her feeling something

Her father didn’t

After his deployment.

you think


                     makes



                                           (hurt


              me

                    )creeping                                      you


                               between


                 fingers' fay


barely and leather

(stud and skin)

teeth against open
your shoulder blades
apart seemingly *****

tighten furiously into
a grin



                 when

                 most
                 is
                 pain

the opened not mostness of deadeyedgirls is
like life half unlife, and no between thighs stem
can make their cherry


                                            


               ­                                          po!p