Four years ago I chanced upon Colorado.
Only then, did I realize how my life could change,
Realize how to truly love, loving everyone and loving right.

I saw mountains, rivers, and people who changed the course of my life. Only now am I headed down a different path.

A new person I became until I met him, from Colorado as well.
Maybe he was different and right, truly right, truly lovely.

Colored winds and beating trails is
How I lived for one week
And never again could I return to my old self;
Never again would I accept loneliness as a friend,
Grasp tightly to the darkeness, or
Engage in affairs that I need not be tangled in.
Daring to change, daring to love, daring to greet the new me with open arms.

Curled on the sand
Ten miles back,
I saw the ghost of myself
And hauntings of my past;
I saw the shadow of a body
And my bones decaying at last.

Disfigured and hanging from a tree,
I saw my heart dangling above me
And my ****** fingers mangled in debris.

Singing in a valley
Twenty years back,
I discovered the remains of my voice box,
All blistered and full of cracks;
I discovered the accompanying crusty lips,
Lightly humming and unknown track.

Twisted and frozen in ice,
I discovered my one and only vice
And my once golden hair, laden with lice.

My body,
Once pieced together in perfection,
Has fallen apart
And become my collection;
Everything that was flawless
Is now enveloped in infection.

It was March, somewhere near the darkened salty wood
When I heard a girl say something, a cry out to me.
She ran out of the forest as fast as she could
To greet me with eyes the shone like the glass of the sea.

"My name is Avery," a silver flute chimed,
"Would you like to come find shells with me?"
I was stunned; all seemed to be perfectly timed,
She came right when I was about to leave.

The ocean waves crashed like thunder.
It was surprising how comfortable she was with me.
All at once, I began to wonder:
Could this be real life? How on Earth could this be?

In the distance, I heard the bell ring,
Seven o'clock the sun signaled to me.
Avery looked upon my face, began to sing,
Which reminded me of a soft and sweet honey bee.

My boat pulled ashore near the beginning of dawn,
And Avery pulled aside and whispered to me,
"Don't leave, who knows where you'll land upon?"
"But my home is not with the trees."

As the ship left, I could see the tear glisten on her face,
And something was struck deep inside of me;
I could only think of the imaginary place
Where I would once again meet my dear she.

Four years later when my home pulled ashore,
Avery was not there waiting for me.
I could not find her anymore,
Perhaps while I was gone, she had found a he.

Slowly, I followed a path into the darkened salty wood
Where a grave had waited upon me.
There, in silence I stood,
Was my poor little Avery.

Nevermore could I hear her whisper her love for me
Nor the songs that she would sing to the sea.
Nevermore would I feel her heart beat,
The only sound would be the weeping, coming from me.

Sometimes,
Sometimes you fall completely into pieces
And you feel broken in every way possible,
But not because you are sad,
Not because the world let you down,
Because you feel completely alive
And in love with
Something, someone, a place
So much that you can't hold yourself together.
Sometimes you feel shattered
After discovering what you are most passionate about:
You are consumed and want to be filled to the brim
With everything involving who you are,
You want to concentrate every fiber of your being
To your passion.
Being broken isn't always bad,
Sometimes, it's where you find your secret treasures.

In this photograph,
Here in my hands,
Lies the most telling tale.
It is a picture of a man,
Dark hair, in his middle years,
But wiser than anyone I have ever seen.
I do not know this man personally,
But he has traveled the world,
And seen all of its tragedies
And all of its blessings.
I have never met this man,
But he knows all of history,
From the beginning of time
Up until the end of the universe.
It's not something we can fathom,
But his mind is capable of knowing the misunderstandings.
However,
This man never existed.
Nor will he ever.
The human race will run
Fast
Faster
Until they can run no more
In order to be like this man sitting here in my hands.
But their goal is out of reach,
Clouded by misjudgment and arrogance.
We will never be like this man sitting here in my hands.
We will never be this man sitting here in my hands.

Imagine,
Me, pulling back the universe,
Finding a tear,
Where a star fell too far through
And space is limply hanging loose,
Swaying lightly in a comet's wind.
What would you find behind it all?
Some say that the stars shine
Only because Heaven shines behind them.
Some claim that the moon is made of cheese
Even though they have never visited the desolate rock.
But what if space is like the covers on my bed?
When you pull it back
And place is back over you,
There is your imprint,
Your fingerprint,
And it warms you
By the light of the cosmos
By the proximity of the planets
And no one can see you anymore
Because it protects you
And the monsters of this world
Disappear.

Perhaps one day, I'll meet my end,
But until that day,
I'll continue to make amends.
For when that day is come,
I know I shall decay
And perhaps I'll find my way,
To Heaven or Hell I shall succumb.
It is something I cannot transcend,
So unto Death beats its drum,
I shall pretend.