Altruistic mannerisms,
developed from skewed senses
outlined by a greater power,
gives me anger, and greed first.

So that I might know
that I arrived on my own.

Base it on my ability
to develop self
and not my ability to obtain as I have been directed.

I'm growing up; not growing stronger.
In between the time when 3 men loved me I forgot how to love myself.        
I feel isolated, alone.
I am dependent on a boy who does not see me.
I signed a lease, so I stay.

But my soul...it wanders.
It wakes each morning and stretches its limbs to the ceiling and walls.
It pushes on the windows and bangs on my door.
Quickly I reel it in.
Before the neighbors hears its screams or see the chains that hold it back.
I bury it into me.
I make it lay straight, flat and neat under my skin.
But it battles me.
From my eyes I can see it taunt me in the mirror. 
It weaves my hair into knots.
It whispers pretty things to pull my gaze upward.
But I look down. I watch my feet.
                                                           ­                                                                 ­                                     
I am tired.
We are tired, this has to end.
Maybe tomorrow I'll let my soul win.
Maybe tomorrow we will both take flight and instead of whispering we will sing.
I will look at the sky.
I will loose myself in the stars and I fly with the birds.
I will skip on clouds and pluck trees like flowers.

Stand before the world, for it is your stage.
Speak truth, for it is your conscience.
Stand tall, so you might be seen.
Speak slow, so others may take note.
And bow only when life itself ceases.

we stay within confines constructed of fear
why we do not leave is mysterious on its own
for we find ourselves stuck
reluctant to change
be it fear that things will be worse?
or be it fear that they will be far better than ever before?

immortal my soul
ever changing my shell
dark skies be our time
lacking the ability to witness
what will forever be a secret
rather special
if only brief
i will not with certainty
let you see me weep once more
in a place created from love
enough to mark it holy
will i yearn for you or
will i mourn for me

Yea,
before i graduated,
before we broke up,
before kansas,
before italy,
before number five,
before you joined up under the **** commander.

Be wary of what you create- for it may take on a life of its own.

I think we grow crazy when the regrets of our past and the guilt of our conscience linger too long in the company of time and silence.

my hands are cold and thin,
worn down by life and sin.
searching into my eyes,
to the life you find,
among things that lie lifeless and cast aside
are haunting words
i never had the courage to say.

Stalked into listening.
A teacher preaches patience.
Will the message stick?

Homes today;
many appear replaced, similar and programmed.
Charitable giving;
rushed to keep up with cuts and shifts in government.
Nonprofits;
work for other narrow organizations.
Groups are asking.
They are looking
for a broader change.
Systems;
aimed to convince employees
not to ask about history.
And history…
that’s completely irrelevant
unless subpoenaed to witness.

To find somewhere safe,
we live in fear,
foreign lands,
teaching the understanding of confusion.

Oh, but to go everywhere,
we will challenge life itself.
And it will shake,
with the might of our potential.

We will love. And we will know pain.
Shall we ever find a quiet hope for justification?
Or will we find only what we have the resolve to search out?
Force matters as much as one’s bearings,
propelling life only with vindication of self.
Definitions, be they rational or lacking,
will not only define our world but also our worth.
For there, in potential, lies all.

The name that I give you,
it will become you.
It will
embody your spirit
within its syllables.
Echoes
of its shouting
will teach your feet,
the meaning
of quick.

Why should peace come only
to those who are in His favor?
Surely all desire such a gift.

Perhaps we are still struggling
to earn such clemency.
Hush, your time will come.

Of all the truths
the blessing of birth brings,
let them bear witness.

It is, that time gives one all it has.
And if regret should lie in anything -
it will be in ceasing not that which is always present.

Such as a mother love.
Nothing is greater.

My care lies in not the rest
I choose to view from safety
Hidden among the colors of my clothes
I blend into the unseen health
I am in no danger of being found
Unless I allow a sound
To escape and float away from me
Ringing in the ears of children
Curiosity teaches one to follow sense
Ignored are parents’ warnings
As the follow pitch
What will they find?

If only like the trees we could let go without uprooting.

Be the fall.
Begin on and continue through the night.
The author has given away,
without screening as I had.
Deep into your own roles we play.
Transfering next year,
I get to play mom.

Don’t enjoy space.
I wanna feel.
And if everything moves on.
The less you stop.

It's funny how we use our lives to search for what we've always had.

Small and painted
dripping color
stop to stare
you’ll start to smother.

Take a minute
then be on your way
every moment
bleeds into May.

For that single
blissful second
all the world
will fade away.

If I had to go and if I had a choice –
I would die as a leaf
most vibrant at the end.

There are many like me here-
sitting
well
spaced.
Our prayers fill the air
like hymns filling silence.

"I don’t think you will be able to cope" they say
"I don’t think you will be happy" they say
"I don’t think you will…" the say

they say many things

To them I say…"lets us find out"