Today you were born.
Thank you for being here.
For being alive.
Making it through another year.
It does get better.
I promise.

I can’t say I Love You.
Because I don't.
But there is someone who does.
Perhaps more than one.
It’s okay if it’s just mom.
Or dad or brother or sister.

If you cut please don’t do it again.
I will tell you what I told my sister.
Put the blade to your wrist.
Hold it there.
Don’t move it.
Keep it there ‘til you aren’t upset anymore.

If you think about ending it all tonight.
Or possibly tomorrow.
Don’t.
All the events that led to this “solution”.
Write it all down.
And burn it.

If you have a broken heart.
Don’t pick up the ice cream.
Or any weapons.
It isn’t worth gaining weight.
Or the physical scars.
Curl into fetal position and cry a lot.

Don’t cry for too long.
Get up and look at yourself.
Say “It will get better.
I won’t cry for the same reason”.
Repeat until you believe.
Promise me.

If you lost someone dear.
Don’t hold it all in.
It will become too much.
Like waiting too long to ***.
The mess is horrible.
The smell: pungent and nasty.

Seriously though.
Mourn but don’t get stuck in the moment.
There isn’t a time frame for healing.
But don’t let grief to be the only emotion left.
Stand and move forward with them in your heart.
The ones still here need you.

If you are happy.
Truly happy.
Not with the material things.
But with your state of mind.
With your values and virtues.
I applaud you.

Don’t let them slip free.
You have strength so put it to good use.
Lift the others who deserve it.
Don’t waste your time with idiots.
But I can’t force you to do anything.
Do what you will.

There is a forest old as hillsides
tall, majestic, dappled shades
fall on ground beneath the silent
gnarled defenders of the glade.

There they stand in ancient splendour
many souls have passed their way
often used as welcome shelter
from the heat of summers day.

Sweet the air they breathe in chorus
our life's breath their lungs provide,
soaking up our daily poison
so that we may live and thrive.

You seas of men intent to clear them
citing progress, peddling greed
tearing roots from precious mooring
laying waste to nature's seed.

**** the beauty of a landscape
displace creatures for your need
rupture fragile ecosystems
scar the earth and watch it bleed.

To you I ask a simple question,
as I see the land bereaved.
What need has man of all this progress
when he can no longer breathe?

i'm needy, i'm restless
don't know where my head is
got bruises and whiplash
every move's got a backlash
i can't tell you, i'm thinking
i'm constantly sinking
on the edge, see your face
but things just aren't the same