Unicorns don't exist.
Because sometimes just the idea is enough.

I miss the days
where my biggest concern was how to
carry a sixty-four ounce grape slushie
from the gas station
while riding my Huffy.

Still, not much has changed.
I'm still awful at planning ahead,
and I still act on impulse,
and I still can't ride a bike
with no hands. It feels like the scrapes
on my elbow are open.

Summer was never really my season.

I would've given birth
To you,
Endured whatever
Mothers do.
Instead, I did
What Dads do.

I rocked you
Til my future shook;
Watched you til
I couldn't look.
As you changed,
I changed too,
To do the things
That Dads do.

You were bathed,
Dressed and fed;
I loved you so much
I was saved.

If there's credit,
Well, I get it,
For teaching you to read.
I took the blame
When you got bored
With school's ABC's.

I followed you
In all your roles,
Your teams,
Your solos,
Your trips,
Your shows.
First to clap,
Last to sit;
I taped it all,
From start -
To finish.

I taught you
How to tie a lace,
Ride a bike,
Golf and skate.
When time arrived
For you to drive,
You learned
On standard,
Never stranded,
You came home alive.

Your highs
I took in stride,
By example taught
Humility's pride.
Your lows,
I couldn't internalize,
I dropped my guard
With my eyes.

When Dad's do well
It's a double edge,
The future wedge.
The world
Revealed
Desired you too.
I don't dismiss
What mothers do,
But when Dads do well,
Both lose you.

The problem with having one life
is having to choose
which life to live.

And the problem with soul mates
is having to choose
which one to love
and which to never meet.

There has to be a better way.

You could be a beekeeper on Mondays,
a violinist on Tuesdays,
a mother of three on Wednesdays,
and the greatest boxer since Ali on Thursdays.

On Fridays, your heart would belong to
the handsome attorney two doors down.
Saturday would come, and you’d fall into
the arms of your old Philosophy professor from university.

What would you choose to do
with all of your Sundays?

I'd like to begin with an old fashioned signature
" be good to us, and we'll be good to you"
See, in this case we have a few things to explain
One being reality. What is it?
Can we draw a line between what is and isn't, or are we better off inert?
Inert as in, a stationed mental awareness,
rather than a fixed location of matter.
Remember that we can play with both the idea of control, and fate.
A God. Many Gods. No Gods.  It doesn't make a difference.
You claim to know a God, and they claim they know many.
Where is your argument?
You're as wrong as you are right, which brings me to another thought,
If we are continuously both living and dying in This state
then what about when we move on to the next?
Assuming of course there is some sort of life after death
Though, there is no certainty
In fact, how can one be certain death IS an inevitability?
Sure, it happens to those around us,
and we are thoroughly informed that Everyone dies
But, if you haven't experienced death, how do you know it's real?
I'm not trying to flirt around with certainty
I'm aware that I exist and that's all I can really Know
but that is a lonely road, and it literally gets you nowhere.
What I am trying to say though is that matter, or "the physical realm"
it would be nothing without the mind.
Just like the mind would be nothing without matter would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without matter would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without matter would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without the mind would be nothing without the mind...  
You see? One cannot exist without the other.
If we can die, then the physical realm Must die with us.
Death should not frighten you or even make you sad.
What should scare you is that time is constantly moving
Everything around you is going to crumble,
and life will slip through your fingers. Everyone you know will get older.
Your parents. Your kids. Your pets.
They're all coming to an end, and so are you,
and by the time you get there you'll be so sick and tired,
you'll convince yourself you are ready.
One last prayer to God. One last goodbye to family, lovers, friends,
and life.
Last days turn into a couple seconds
a line segment representing your life coming to a point
Lights dim to black. The only sound is low vibration
A Panic takes over every cell
Floating through nothing while understanding that
everything that ever was, is, and will be, is now coming to an ultimate end
your reality is a black sphere in black space
balancing on a long thin breaking stick
Desperation
All memory and understanding now ending, you fight
laying on your back, feet and hands trying to hold up existence until

Due to the graphic nature of the universe, creative expression is advised.

A uniquely unique me,
Is all I wanna be!
When you can be so special,
Why waste your own potential?

When I can move my ears,
And growl (although it's queer)
And choose how loud to ****
--consider it a type of art

When I can hiccup-****-sneeze,
And appreciate blue cheese
And laugh and chortle and guffaw
--all my friends stare in awe.

When I can recite so many words,
(It doesn't mean I'm a nerd)
And snack 20 times a day
--don't judge okay...

When you can do all that,
Why feel the need to act?
Please just accept the fact
You are you and that's that!

you are a planet
                              
                           ­       but i am a star


*(i am bigger than you, i will burn your eyes out, and i do not orbit around you)