How nice would it be
If we were always prepared
For all situations
And from surprises, were spared?

But rain doesn't wait
Till the shelter is raised,
And sun doesn't wait
Till you're wearing your shades.

Mud doesn't wait
Till you're wearing old shoes,
We can't always be ready,
And I'm not ready for you.

No shelter, no shades,
No shoes and no time;
Here you come, taking over
My unprepared mind.

I can fake my identity and try to look happy,
but its all just a cover.
Take a swig from the flask and remove the last mask
only to find another.

There was once a time when I knew myself,
but now I'm not so sure.
All semblance of self-worth lay eroding in the dirt,
and its all thanks to her.

It's not really her fault, I'm truly to blame.
I grew selfish out of fear.
Afraid of being alone, I couldn't let her go
and now she's nowhere near.

my mom told me once
that i built up a wall around my heart
but what she doesn't know is
the great wall of china was built inside my rib cage
and there's a house with weeds growing on brick
inside of me.

*(a.m.c.)

When you see her cry
     you get a rag,
a gentle delicate cloth.
                                        Lovingly grasp her hand
                                               and dab its tip;
                                       dry each tear as they come.
                                                           ­                               And ask each drop
                                                            ­                                   why it'd leave
                                                           ­                               such beautiful eyes.

  If she wishes
to be in the sky,
  tell her to go.
                              Take the sun ransom,
                              and replace its shining
                                    with her own.
                                                            ­          So you can see her every morning
                                                         ­                          and wish for her
                                                                ­                  return each night.

When you see her scars
  both visible and non-
    touch each gently.
                                             And remind her
                                       that each and every hurt
                                            she has survived,
                                                       ­                                 has only made her
                                                                ­                   that much more unique;
                                                         ­                              that much stronger.

  Show her that she
  is a special person
and is worthy of love.
                                     That she deserves the love
                                            she fears to give...
                                            show her so that
                                                            ­                     one day after you're gone
                                                            ­                      she can find the strength
                                                                ­                    to go on without you.

    Tell her that while
she might not be a goddess
far above worldly desires,
                                          that she is amazing,
                                         for just being herself
                                    for being that beautiful girl
                                                            ­                   who thinks herself damaged
                                                         ­                         when in truth she's just
                                                            ­                    a different kind of beautiful.

   And finally, love her.
  Like a boy loves a girl
Till she finally remembers
                                            that that's what she is:
                                          not a scar, not a goddess,
                                             not a star. But a girl.
                                                           ­                         That deserves to be loved.

Sticks and stones, she said.
They'll break my bones.
Words won't hurt me.
She lied, I feel alone.

Words break more,
They call me *****,
Slam me into locker doors,
I can't take much more!

Words are painless! she said.
My being is shattered.
In death, I'll wonder,
Did my life even matter?

Poet, be not afraid.
There are far worse things than
Bad poetry.

Keep writing; like a child keeps
Drawing with the purest of
Disregards to likeness.

The more stones you turn, the more
Gems you produce.

The more ink you rain,
The more gracious your written
Children grow.

All flexing builds muscle.

Rough bricks form castles.

Even Dalì carved canvases to shreds
And started anew
Not caring too much.
Not caring

Too much
To keep painting.