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She lays in bed at night, curled up and silent,
Desperately clutching the fabric of her sweater
As if its threads are keeping her together.
Her eyes like two fountains of glittering saltwater in the darkness.

Under the blankets of shadows she shakes,
Like a silent earthquake; trembling and destructive.
She's falling apart, but who would notice?
Her pain is masked behind a carefully constructed disguise.
Her plastered on smile has started to fade now,
Old wallpaper in this beaten, weathered house.

When the sun sinks under the trees,
Monsters creep into her room and whisper in her ears.
They sink their teeth into her skin and the poison seeps in,
Coursing recklessly through her veins until it has reached her very heart.
A heart that now beats timidly, crushed into tiny sharp fragments,
And grafted together by loosely tied glimmering threads.

Sleep slips underneath her eyelids like a gift,
A temporary escape from the storm brewing inside her.
"Help me," she whispers as she fades away,
Lifting off the dead decaying landscape of her mind.
Her life is a sad mournful song, perpetually stuck on rewind.

The morning world in mist dissolves and under,
Towed to heaven, we, a plod below the death
Of clouds, sing mute, where they trumpet-glide
Flashing into peace.  Three-toed slabs, parched
Of orange, web the stars over the wine
Dark seas and chalk the churn and twining earth
Into gloaming.  In rapt stillness they,
Are import and income, parables,
Echoes of the innocent song sung to a spire,
Gilded hutches, to those who heap on brightness
Swans are brighter even more with blackest
Eyes, they pierce the silent shroud all starry.
I wish that we were like two swans my love,
Neck of nape, embracing without touch.

v

My love is kept, and I have nailed
Her face to mine in a box of sleep,
A chamber for lost chances, subtle
Visitations, concrete emanations,
Somnambulistic signs and mercies
Elation, we walk through meadows
Of the mending sun, sweetly chaste,
Ever deep into the wandering shift,
That tearing time and moon allows,
Real as dream, to the lands of night.

You’re the wind that plays with my hair,

the loud silence I can never quiet,

the clearest of my truths.

You’re everything I’m not,

and all that I am.

You’re the grace of such turbulent water,

the beauty of unforgiving weather,

the wonders of the unknown,

the advice I never take,

the dream I want to chase,

you’re everything I hate

because you’re all that I want,

and it’s not what I have.

There was a shooting in Redstone
Only one man dead, none hurt
He was found dead in the morning
With just one hole right through his shirt

He was lying in the main street
Face down, right there in the dirt
He was found dead in the morning
With just one hole right through his shirt

I'T WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END LIKE THIS
FACE DOWN HERE, IN THE STREET
I'M A GUNFIGHTER OF MUCH RENOWN
I'M JUST A GUN WHO CAN'T BE BEAT
I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE
LYING DEAD, SHOT IN THE BACK
I WAS GUNNED DOWN BY A COWARD
I DIDN'T HEAR THE GUNSHOT CRACK

The crowd had formed around him
Lying there, all hard and cold
No witnessess to the shooting
At least not one so bold

They knew him from his weapon
The sixteen notches on the grip
He came in on the Flyer
He won't be on the return trip

I'T WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END LIKE THIS
FACE DOWN HERE, IN THE STREET
I'M A GUNFIGHTER OF MUCH RENOWN
I'M JUST A GUN WHO CAN'T BE BEAT
I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE
LYING DEAD, SHOT IN THE BACK
I WAS GUNNED DOWN BY A COWARD
I DIDN'T HEAR THE GUNSHOT CRACK

He was staying at The Belfry
He only brought one bag to town
No one knew why he had come here
Except to shoot somebody down

The papers ran the story
The next morning in THE SUN
They ran a picture and a story
Of the "Man With The Pearl Gun"

I'T WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END LIKE THIS
FACE DOWN HERE, IN THE STREET
I'M A GUNFIGHTER OF MUCH RENOWN
I'M JUST A GUN WHO CAN'T BE BEAT
I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE
LYING DEAD, SHOT IN THE BACK
I WAS GUNNED DOWN BY A COWARD
I DIDN'T HEAR THE GUNSHOT CRACK

The story was quite lengthy
Considering no one saw him shot
But, as usual there was someone
Who had a story to be bought

He'd been shot from an end window
Above the Local Mercantile Store
One bullet from a rifle
And the gunman was no more

I'T WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END LIKE THIS
FACE DOWN HERE, IN THE STREET
I'M A GUNFIGHTER OF MUCH RENOWN
I'M JUST A GUN WHO CAN'T BE BEAT
I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE
LYING DEAD, SHOT IN THE BACK
I WAS GUNNED DOWN BY A COWARD
I DIDN'T HEAR THE GUNSHOT CRACK

Turns out the gunman's killer
Was the one he'd come to find
The shooter was the killer's child
The only son, he'd left behind

They never met before this
He'd never ever met his Dad
But, The Gunman came to find him
And in the end, it's kind of sad

I'T WASN'T SUPPOSED TO END LIKE THIS
FACE DOWN HERE, IN THE STREET
I'M A GUNFIGHTER OF MUCH RENOWN
I'M JUST A GUN WHO CAN'T BE BEAT
I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO BE HERE
LYING DEAD, SHOT BY MY SON
I WAS GUNNED DOWN WITHOUT KNOWING
I GUESS HE'S NOW THE WANTED GUN.

I live in fantasy
A soul on the water
Waking up evermore to glistening shores

Mist rises high from the warm suns rays
No picture could capture the millions of words
This isn't fiction, it's true.
This is just my morning view

A flower blooms blood red and sky blue
While a hummingbird wakes up and drinks its dew
The mountains which rise around my quiet lake stand silent and listen
Give nothing but their smiles for miles.

The wind never blows before noon, holding this scene still
Moments like this happen every day for me.
Just close your eyes and dream of this far land I live in.
You can be here, you can discover this.
Just close your eyes to see.

Sometimes we say more by saying nothing at all,
and sometimes we do more by doing nothing at all.

Your home should be a place of peace and quiet a place where you can escape and get things off of your mind, a place where you can just dust everything off your shoulders and when you walk away you’ll know those problems are there to stay, they are in the past and there to stay.
I really don’t know what I am doing here, I still haven’t figured out why I was put here on this earth.  I believe and have always believed that everyone is placed here for a reason, and they all know why they are here but I feel I am the only one who feels that they don’t know why they are here.  For I believe I am alone.
I am told that I don’t have to be alone. It don’t have to be just me against the world. I think I choose to be alone…is this true….? I really dunno I ask myself this question all the time and I really don’t know the answer.  
I cheat myself everyday…I say one thing and I do another or I never do it at all… these days I would just be another hypocrite.  I don’t please anyone at all, I try to do what they say and I want to be glad that I’m doing it for them, but when you are given no respect how do those not giving expect any in return. I shouldn’t be the one who has to pick up all the pieces and try to put them back the way they should be.
You know in all reality I really wish I could do that.  Maybe then do you think they would appreciate me…?  Sometimes I think maybe if I could do all of this my family wouldn’t be so distant, so torn and not even into halves. But into a million tiny pieces.
It huts to see my family members be in hurt themselves.  But in all reality they brought it all unto themselves.  You can’t feel sorry for those who don’t want it or better yet don’t deserve it.