This is the flower
Which you lay upon,
And this is the vase
Which I put it in,
These are my thoughts for tomorrow,
Here are your clothes,
Take them.

This is the tree
Of the winter leaf,
And this the train
That won't stand still,
These are my fingers bitterly cold,
Here is your heart,
Thankyou.

This is the castle,
And this the rock,
This is the river
That can't be crossed,
This is a jar and there are the tears,
Here is a clock
To count the years.

This is a picture,
And there's the sun,
This is a pillow
To pray upon,
These are the stones that cross the sea,
There is your future,
Leave.

I sit by the lake,
                                 on the lush green grass,
gently try to break
                                  my inner thoughts,
and silently assimilate
                                 chirping of birds,
rhythmic swaying of trees
                                 by the sweet breeze,
stare at the white cotton clouds
                                 spread on the chimerical blue
and try to soak the pure dew
                    till the morning remains new.

You cannot tell me
That what I feel is purely..
in my head

Not whenever my heart pounds
Not whenever my hands shake
not whenever my chest aches

You cannot tell me
That what I feel is..
ridiculous

Because I know that this is real
Both to my brain
*and to my body

before you **** yourself,
just remember
that there are
places you have not been
and things you have not seen.
and poems to awe
art to draw
fields to walk through,
people to talk to,
music to take in,
games to win,
and books to be read.

so why,
oh why
do you wish
to be dead?

-"Why do you breathe out?"

~"Because I breathe in."

-"Why do you breathe in?"

~"Because I breathe out."

-"How did this begin? I mean, how did it come about?"

~"I'm not exactly sure, though I swear I heard a shout."

-"Well, who was yelling to you?"

~"I don't know...but I cried."

-"And at your beginning, why cry, why not sing?"

~"Well because, my good friend, we start to die when we begin."

-"Pfffft, well if that's the way you see it then fine. We'll let it be-"

~"Oh no, dearest companion, you've asked the questions, the truth you will see. How truly there is no real Me or real You. How the mind has disguised what is one as something two. Two sides of the brain means two processors at work. I mean I should know I've been running them since birth. My experience cleaved so I may be able to comprehend something vague called reality? All that is real teases me, it flitters around my head and vanishes into nowhere, a land beyond Time,  beyond the dead. And so that's what I mean between breathing and not. Because the space between breaths is where the Truth will be taught."

-"...well...okay...hmm, um, check please!"