Run, hide, scream, despair,
Upon us comes an old nightmare.
Terror, weakness, gasp for air,
It's psychological warfare.
In the windows, yellow eyes,
Primal demons from the skies,
Parts of you that you despise,
Blotting out the red sunrise.
Snakes and spiders do kung-fu,
Boiling water raining too.
It's a dream, you're breaking through,
But the things you saw wake up with you.

was he loving
was he kind
did he always speak his mind

was he thoughtful
was he warm
did he listen, and conform

was he faithful
was he loyal
did he tinker, did he toil

was he patient
was he tough
did he dream, big enough

was he funny
was he wise
did he brim with dull surprise

was he humble
was he vowed
did he always make you proud

was it sudden
was it slow
was there nothing left untold

was he ready
was it time
was forgiveness left behind

she was not fragile like a snowflake.
she was fragile like a bomb.
and i didn't know which was scarier-
                                                        ­  her explosion or her calm.

Saying goodbye
To someone you love
Is like reading the final page
Of an amazing book.

As the last chapter ends
You begin to notice
Just how beautiful
And perfect
The plot always was.  

You appreciate the joy
And even the pain
As you read and thumb
Through every page.

Finally understanding
The moral of the story,
You realize you've reached
The end of this journey.

Although the last sentence  
Is the most difficult to read
Another great book awaits
Once you turn the final page.

Eventually you may stumble
Upon yet another great find.
Or maybe you'll return
To the book you left behind.

You may just discover
Once all is said and done
That this particular book  
Was your favorite story
All along.

Late night car rides,
Empty pints of *****,
A one-night ecstacy,
With a heartbreak dawn:

She shows her shallows,
As if they're great depths;
A cry of sorrow? Honey,
You ain't seen nothing yet.

She's not an open book,
She's just a bookmark type of personality.
Stuck between the pages of something more interesting,
Like a catalog or a Cosmo magazine.

Oh, she's always just caught between someone's pages,
With bits and pieces of their's stories rubbing off on her,
But them words don't look the same tattooed on her, oh no.

So stop pretending you're the deepest sea,
Your pretentious crap never fooled me.

I have this brain
With which I sometimes think

A set of eyes
Stuck in sockets to see

Two healthy lungs
That know the key is to breath

To keep my heart pumping
In its perpetual beat

A mouth that too often
Doesn't think when it speaks

A stomach that growls
When it's time too feed

Not too picky
When it comes to its choice of eats

Other body parts involved
In the space between

Some working fine
Others struggling to reach

All miraculously entwined  
From my head to feet

These are just a few parts I've got
That make up part of me