salty tears spill over my eyelids
i have spent so long resisting them,
scolding them, lashing myself
telling myself i am broken
for having a soft exterior
with cracks that allow life to slip through

but what if this is part of my beauty?
what if isn't wrong to feel
every morsel of life that it has to give?
what if it means i can understand you?
what if it means i can help somebody
feel more seen, and less afraid?
what if it means i am just being my version
of alive?

i will try to soften
around these cracks of mine
and have compassion,
love,
for these parts of who i am

...and if it's not forever
Let me be the best season you've lived.

it's got to be the right time
the right one for the
trance of dance
of crying
of love
or prayer
stay awhile to feel
the breath of hours
or the pilgrims breathing
near darkening forests
zebras forgetting their
blackness
the pulse of far riders
blown away
by a mirage caravan

blessed those who
pray for the calmness
of rain

I can get irrationally angry at art, but not science.
Science is just a tool, art can betray you.

While there is life, there’s hope, Spaniards do say,
What good is life, though, when all hope is gone?
With our hearts breaking, we can nightly pray,
Try to ignore reason’s call to move on.

Faith for a time can keep our hope alive,
Drown out despair’s compelling siren’s song,
Until the sands of time slowly contrive,
To wear to nothing that which once was strong.

And yet I cling to that thin, fading dream,
That all might yet be well for those I love,
For no one knows what will flow in life’s stream,
Known only to the mind of God above.

Please help her, God, and all I love in need,
Please, dearest Lord, I beg you, intercede.

Will you take any of your bad back
or shall I just bury it
deep inside my head
and forget.