tonight i am sad
tonight i am lonely
the demons are screaming
and i need you to hold me

we judge books by their covers
we are judged by our covers
we take personality tests
because we don't know who we are
we want to know
we wish to belong
we build up our walls
just to have them crumble
and burry us in the ruble
emotions run high
caring too much
or not enough
our words fly without a thought
embedding themselves like thorns under skin
red fingerprints
we want to grow up
so we are not looked down on
we want to escape our thoughts
so they don't consume us
cut us open
bleed us dry

Said the little boy, "Sometimes I drop my spoon."
Said the old man, "I do that too."
The little boy whispered, "I wet my pants."
"I do that too," laughed the little old man.
Said the little boy, "I often cry."
The old man nodded, "So do I."
"But worst of all," said the boy, "it seems
Grown-ups don't pay attention to me."
And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand.
"I know what you mean," said the little old man.

When a baby cries,
why do we feel potential.
Like we know that his life
is the best its ever going to be
right now.
And we ponder telling them
that life only gets worse
but we stop short,
fearing maybe then he'll always cry.

If when we are born
it is a marvelous accident,
then why do we scoff at oblivion.
Why do we strive to be more
than those who came before
and why the hell
are we concerned with disproving
heaven.
Why exactly can we find meaning
in a place that was formed out of chaos.

Why, when we see a baby laugh,
do we smile back.

SHHHHH

The hiss of my father signals
That I have been too loud
Again.

SHHHHHHHHH

Again, my father admits
That he values
Silence over my Presence.

"Do you know what I mean?"
I say, after explaining some issue I was facing.
"No"
He says, shutting down our communication
With no other signs
That my conversation means
Anything more to him
Than white noise.

SHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH