The tears welled up,
fell,
and streamed down
into a river.

My love for you was as natural
as a constellation formation,
as a gathering of storm clouds,
as flowers blooming then wilting.

But I guess it is just
as natural for this to end.
Like the sky clearing up
after a whirling of tornadoes.
Like a bird no longer tweeting
when the night comes.

What tears I've shed,
will be  refilled again.
I have loved, they have left.

But I will love again.
For I am ever growing.
I am made to love and hope.
And I will never run out.

-m.b

ＪＪｓｂｄｋｓｎｄｋｋｄｍｘｍｊｓｈＪｕｓｔｌｅｔｍｅｄｉｅｍｍｍｋｂｈｂｘｊｄｎｘｎｂｄｊｘｂｄｎｘｎｎｘｎｘｎＩｍｓｏｔｉｒｅ­ｄｏｆｔｈｉｓｎｓｊｓ ｎｋｋｓｂｄｎｄｎｂｄｔｈｅｓｅ ｔｅａｒｓ ｗｏｎｔｓｔｏｐｊｄｊｄｎｎ ｚｎｊｓｎｎｄｕｄｎｄｋｄｋｎｆｋｄｍｓｓｎｆｎｊｄｎｄｎｎｄｂｄｂｄｂｄｎＷｈｙｔｈｅｐａｉｎｓｔｉｌｌｌｉｖｅｓｉｎ ｍｙｈｅａｒｔｊｊｘｎｘｊｘｊｄｎ ｍｙｋｄｊｄｖｊｓｎｄｊｃｊｎｄｎｄｎｃｎｘｋｘｎｋｘｎｄｋｄｋｊｄｎｓｋｘｈｊｓｈｄｊｄｄｎｄｅＩｍｓｏｆｕｃｋｉｎｇｔｉｒｅｄ­ｍｓｎｎｄｋｓｎｘｏｎｓｈｘｉｄｎｋｘｎｄｊｓｊｄｂｊｄｋｓｌｍｓｎｄｊｊｄｂｄｉｓｂｄｊｊｄｋｓｎｄｊｄｈｂｓｎｄｎｎｄｊｄｊｄ­ｎｄｎｄ


Ｙｏｕｌｌｎｅｖｅｒｕｎｄｅｒｓｔａｎｄ ｍｅ

I stopped checking for monsters under the bed,
when I realized they were inside all of us instead

I just want to be set on fire.
I'm not asking for a funeral pyre,
or to burn like the sun, and light up the day,
or to shine like a fireworks display.

Just let me roast 'til I'm charred a deep black.
Let the smoke rise up in billowing stacks,
and once I'm burnt through, take hold of my ashes,
and toss me across wild vegetable patches.

Let me take root in the summertime haze.
Let me find peace in the cool autumn days.
Let me take shelter from winter's contempt.
Let me sprout new leaves as spring is redeem't.

I ask no forgiveness, no charity, mercy.
I don't wish for anything granted. Conversely,
I ask for two items, and if you're so keen;
A matchbox, and one gallon of gasoline.

As I wake everyday life seems to drag me down,
It just seems like I'm a never-ending pawn,
I try hard everyday to stay above ground,
But it seems like drowning and my arms are bound,
I can't help but to think that my life is quicksand,
And it seems like everything I do I'm just not landing,

My head and body fights for air,
It seems like there is no end near,
People look on with crossed arms,
I can see in their eyes my darkest times,
Feels like they're pushing me into the ground,
Would they ever notice I'm no longer around,

It just seems like I'm in my own quicksand,
Would anyone ever give me a hand,
Or am I in this fight against the hourglass,
Only time can tell and I only hope this will pass,
Until that time I'll be here in the quicksand,
Hoping someone or something will give me a hand...

You certainly remember,
our first date
when you scribbled a bird
on a rough piece of paper.

Come and see,
the bird has taken flight.

Gone again.