The old man sat in the darkness
Taking in what he could see
He smiled, although slyly
And he leaned in close to me

He said the air is different
You can taste it here abouts
Listen close to what's around you
The air is different...there's no doubt

I didn't understand him
He spoke in concepts, not in words
He talked of feeling the emotions
Of people running 'round in herds

He said, I've been here sixty years now
Seen people come and people go
I used to be the barkeep
But, then that's something that you know

I've seen Elvis and The Beatles
Seen Presidents and Kings
I've seen hearts torn all asunder
And the pain that a war brings

I saw Kennedy on that TV
That, one behind your head
I watched him drive on straight through Dallas
And moments later he was dead

This place was just dead silent
On the day that that man died
And hand to god I'll tell you
I was all torn up inside

I saw soldiers in that Vietnam
Fighting for what? I don't know
I saw them on that TV there
I watched them lining up to go

I saw them having rally's
Taunting those who had the guns
I saw them bringing back the caskets
Of the now dead, teenage sons

That TV showed me lots of stuff
It never strayed far from the news
It always shows the Tigers game
I turn it up to hear the boos

I saw King and Bobby on that set
Taken way to young
God, it would have been a different world
To see what things they might have brung

I sat back and I listened
The old man, went on a while
He waved ******* skyward
And said, two more beers ...with his smile

My life has been a good one
I've been alone, except for here
I watch the outside on that set
It was then, we got our beer

I remember back when Elvis died
He was the best back in the day
But, me I liked Sinatra
Dean Martin, Bob and Ray

There was folks in here all crying
singing songs, and holding hands
on various occassions
from Lennons death, to Bobby Sands

I never really took part
In the lives of those who came
To spend their time here with me
I only knew a few by name

My job was just to serve them
Not to be their new best friend
I guess that's why I sit here still
Watching, waiting for the end

That set has shown me good and bad
That one, behind your head
It hasn't worked for fifteen years
We got a new one in instead

It's there as a reminder
more to me, than those still here
That life is for the living
And I'm alive while I am here

He rose and turned back to me
Said, it's time for us to close
I'll be back again tomorrow
To watch more highs and maybe lows

I watched the old man shuffle
To his room, and to his bed
Past the TV he saw life on
On the wall behind my head.

You may not have been birthed in the soil,
and granted,
you will not blossom
when spring melts winters wake
but inside of you
grows a thousand gardens
full of exploding stars.
You are of the earth
and your ashes
have been constructed with stardust,
and set free with the wind.
So you may not have a pretty face,
and your body may hold stories
of too many moonless nights alone.
But if you reach inside,
you will find a forest
for a ribcage
and a restless ocean heart.
So don't ever let anyone tell you
you are nothing.
You are a galaxy
holding a million different planets,
and my dear,
that is not nothing.

If looks could **** then I would be a murderer.
My eyes used to be filled with hate.
Staring down those who have wronged me.
So many dead in my wake.

But if looks can **** then maybe they could also heal.
Because the way she looked at me reminded me of memory.
That once had to be told to me because I couldn't remember.

A lover asked his beloved,
Do you love yourself more
than you love me?



The beloved replied,
I have died to myself
and I live for you.



I’ve disappeared from myself
and my attributes.
I am present only for you.



I have forgotten all my learning,
but from knowing you
I have become a scholar.



I have lost all my strength,
but from your power
I am able.



If I love myself
I love you.
If I love you
I love myself.

i'm still trying to figure out how to tell someone i love
that i don't want to exist anymore on this earth
how are you supposed to say that
killing yourself sounds like a better option than suffering through life with half a mind

i think about what people would do if i were to die
would they cry?
would they pretend they were my friend and wish they'd talked to me longer?
i don't think feigning relationships is such a good way to say goodbye
but hell
at least i'd be known to have a lot of friends

it makes me sad to think that my body has gotten so tired
that i fall asleep in my classes when i used to be the only one awake
it's almost like i'm 80 years old on the inside and my heart is failing with my lungs
and i'm 16 on the outside with bags the shades of night
i'm peppered with bruises the colour of magenta but i find they bring me comfort
it lets me know i'm not the only thing breaking

my veins are too

I don't like to think about it
I hate it
I try not to think about it
But do you think trees try to fall down
things happen
regardless of whether they're planned
so last night I thought about it
even though I didn't want to

it kills me
I didn't want it to
I assumed it wouldn't
but trees spend all their lives above the grass
that doesn't mean they think they'll ever touch
I thought about it
and I hate that
and I hate that I hate that I thought about it

I hate that I love you
I hate that I don't fully believe that sentence
I hate that you can feel something
but not be aware that you feel it
I wonder if trees know they'll grow
they always do
but I wonder if they know they will
Is it possible to not know the inevitable?

I wish I could unthink the thought I thought
it kills me
how the thought of you with another man
makes my stomach turn
but the thought of me with another woman
doesn't carry the weight to lift a scale
were trees previously just one branch
until they realized they had other options

I'm using a tree as a metaphor
because I don't want to talk about myself
because I don't want to make this about me
I want the world to cause my problems
but if i'm being honest
which I will be
I am the root of my pain
I just don't want to think about it

Art heals the creator
like scar tissue, sealing
cracks of a broken past,
Red-raw against pale skin
For the world to see that
You're recovering whatnot,
Till time fades these wounds
To nothing
a little makeup can't hide,
So we blend back in, to
Where we never belonged,
An find our identity within
Public display of deformation,
Striped naked, to express self
awareness, no more gruesome
enough to repulse, nor normal
enough to ignore the silver line
Between trauma and wrinkle;
scars fade, not vanish, but
keep us together regardless.