Listen to the rain pour.
I mean- listen to the world's roar.
The wind; brash and arrogant.
Unseen forces leave strong trees bent.

*Lightening cracks open a blackened sky,
rolling thunder follows to say goodbye.

Idiosyncratic
she was so
Idiosyncratic

so *idiosyncratic

she couldn't help but realize
how idiosyncratic
everyone around her was

a bored misanthrope who couldn't stop thinking

the girl made from manic pixie dream dust

If I were a tree
then a poem, to me
would flow just like
my xylem and phloem

What words were spoken
when we lost _ and ?
My head and heart were broken,
and now _ am mssng yo.

I wonder if you look at the moon too,
I wonder if you ever do it when I do,
I wonder the last time I played in the rain,
I wonder, when was the last time you did the same?
I wonder if you wonder as much as I do,
and I wonder if you wonder what I wonder too.

A man kills a man. A ****** blasphemes the resplendent soul of the angelic; ravaging the virtuous house by way of his wicked rapine. Yet the effulgent heart has relinquished the curse of enmity - the noble finds no solace amid the rancor of Hate. Hatred is naught but a vile curse, a bane which plagues the wielder with strife.

Truly I maintain, a condign response commands grace and repose. Do not tolerate the sedative pleasure Hatred bears, for alike an ****** the analgesic peculiarities will soon turn to misery -  unloosing the very wickedness the righteous heart held in such abhorrent contempt.

Only Love can oppose the venom of Hatred and lead the wicked to righteousness. Love will invariably triumph.

After awhile
things kick in
and it becomes pretty clear
its more fun to indulge in sin.

he still gives you butterflies
i just give you *******
he broke through to you
and got inside

he is all of my sighs
the ones
you didn't seem to realize
while I lay in bed beside you


**i promise that he doesn't see you
the way that i do

Who am I?
"I am!" the good boy proudly exclaims
Where am I?
"I am here!" the good boy sings
When did I get here?*
"You always were"* the universe hums

If you wait at the edge of the ocean
You give every bottle at sea a purpose
every message that was written
you are what they put hope in

*if you're feeling like nothing and want to be more
go to the water and wait by the shore

two gather
together
to gather
the light of a fulled soul

If the trees can let go
and drop the dead weight
obviously there's virtue in it
that I can't seem to grasp