There sandy seems the golden sky
And golden seems the sandy plain.
No habitation meets the eye
Unless in the horizon rim,
Some halfway up the limestone wall,
That spot of black is not a stain
Or shadow, but a cavern hole,
Where someone used to climb and crawl
To rest from his besetting fears.
I see the callus on his soul
The disappearing last of him
And of his race starvation slim,
Oh years ago—ten thousand years.

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.

Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark, and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

It was the unbearable lightness
of intense dark
that drove me to madness,
that kept me sane.

Outside the window
a woman is
     beaten upon
          spit upon
a black man is
      unfairly judged
          unfairly punished
a gay man is
       hated at
          jeered at
but none of it can touch me
if I just
       draw the blinds
          close the curtains
shut it out.

Skin on fire
Eyes ablaze
Sparks igniting
scarlet in the night.

Sins melted in lava
The light hurts
when you've been lost
in the dark

widen your gaze
and find your path.
This choatic menace
is just another dire fervor.

ethereal flames
inundating your soul

Ignite! oh ignite!
From the smokey abyss I will rise.
Tranquility found at the surface
where the sun enlightens the blinded
Destinies renewed
Hearts imbued by the warmth of the Golden light
shimmering above

Inferno.
tickling on your skin,
blazing in your heart.

See it glow,
for it is passionate,
it is undying.

It is Inferno.

Hear your voice in every note,
Feel your breath in every phrase,
As my fingers dance on the keys,
It's you I want to amaze.

But you are not here.

See your smile on every stave,
Sense your hands embracing mine,
An unresolved suspension,
Betrays what's on my mind:

You are not here

But then, in the reflection of that ebony grand,
I glimpse a moving figure,
I see your eyes looking back at me,
My music fades to a whisper.

You are here.

I turn to face you and you take my hands,
You place them gently back on the keys,
"Keep playing," You tell me,
"Let me hear more, please."

I take a breath,
"Now you are here, I could play you my soul."

i simply fear death
i do not fear the pain
simply, but also so completely
because ive always wanted death
ive dreamt my end many times
in fact too many to admit
i long for the pain
the throbbing and ache
the hollowness in my soul
i long to be missed
to be cried over

i simply fear death
i do not fear the loss
completely, but how is that simple?
i fear that final breathe
i fear it will be heavy
the air may suffocate
or it may bring revival
i fear death
i fear a death alone
what i fear most
is their acceptance
not caring i am gone

i simply fear death
because no one will notice
my heart would stop
but the world will turn
no one will hurt
or notice my absence
death frightens me
only because i see
my death, my end
i will be utterly alone
like i always have been

you inhale more smoke
taking more small steps to death
to feel more alive

I have too many secrets kept inside,
But I'll just tell you lies,
Or things that don't matter,
Cause I don't matter.

I don't want you to see me.

Someone once told me that
Each crease on your hand is a secret.
And my hands are both deeply lined,
With so many rivers and tributaries...

I have so many things I'm burting to say,
But like a lysosome,
I know if I tell you,
It'll corrode you and digest you,
And it's not worth the pain.
I'm not worth the pain.
So let me carry it all around,
My corpse just a messenger bag,
And I'll release them when I'm
*dead.