I opened the cage
of my ribs for you,
To reveal my softly beating
heart and all that lay
within it.

But you? No.

Your heart is still encased
in that cage of yours.
I can hear it,
each beat reverberating
in your chest.
Yet, I cannot see it.

Maybe you're just shy,
Or
Maybe I just don't hold
the key to the cage
around your heart.

His love is like lightning
My life he's reviving
Darkness lightening
Jesus Arriving

Strangers meet under banner of peace,
Each with bubbling thoughts to release,
Words, flooding jaw, to open mouth,
Salivating tongue, whipping words to route.

Gingerly they stand, like spices they are,
Ready to aid any recipe,
To reach for dreams afar.
They don't even know who they are,
But they make shapes of one another,
Regardless of fit, unlike kindred brother.

Bright words fade to dark whispers,
As the strangers make new friends.

In the end, what is left are daggers,
Made from the shadows of contrast.

One stranger bleeds, invisible wounds that bleet,
Calling out for transcendence, beyond defeat.
The other ponders for silence, amongst the wheat,
But in a field of sorrows, one cannot help but eat.
The strangers stand apart, on a stage bitter sweet,
For underfoot is the rage, a sword incomplete.

Rage desires vengeance, out of arcane countenance,
Fallen from mercy, they each are kane to the sore,
Humans thrive on the jolt of fear sans repentance,
For the breath of *****, and wine, are of death.

Acquainted strangers shed blood instead of nectar,
So as not to drink of the life, from which they all are victor.

Yet they stand mortal enemies, under the stars of fate and boredom.
Where is that banner of peace, waving to set the stage... again?
For we are not sworn enemies, we are mortals of a fallen kingdom,
Meant to die for beliefs that will eat us alive from the inside.

I am one, a particulate suspended
in an infinite collection of
breathing stardust
alone standing on
earthly surfaces.

And you are the life I began
to understand in the poetry of
your words that I long to
**** in and inhale for the rest
of this illusionistic superficial reality.

On my way
       to recovery
              I hit bumps
                     I crossed chasms
                           I defeated my monsters
                     as they defeated me
       I took two steps forward
and three steps back
       but recovery isn't always positive.
                            I have spent my fair share
                                                              of crying
                                                   of drinking
                                                          of hating
                                                               Hating me
                                                 Hating my family
                                    Hating my decisions
                   but I can see the finish line
        There is just one more leap
             but it is my biggest.
                   Apologizing and forgiving
                                    I hope that one day
                                   soon
                                    I can do just that.
                      But until then,
I will take a water break.

You wrote a song for me
Well not for me
But it might as well be
It's my song
It's been my song for years
Ever since it came on the radio
I owned it
My father would look at me when it came on and smile
"It's like he wrote it for you"

This song makes me
Cry
Smile
Laugh

It means everything to me

Some girls keep their virginity
I keep this song
Until I meet the man of my dreams
I won't share this song

Thank you Jason

Don't ever come here
My machete will cut you
Here are Crystal Lake

Where did it start but by one little cry,
one mother's love, one day she will die

Trees grace the land, the water at peace
Visually astounding, pleasant at ease

The lake was open for summer time fun
Camp Crystal Lake where it begun

A boy and his mother greeted each soul,
welcome my friends enjoy it all.

The torment started, it lasted all season,
they beheaded his mother for all the wrong reasons

Emboldened with fury, deep in the lake
drowned by cowards, feeling no shame

Each year they returned, hearing stories of the camp
the man in the mask, machete in hand

Not believing the myth, what shadows do lurk
no hearts will be pounding, only their blood will spurt

Pre-marital *** upstairs in the cabin
rolling blunts on couch, look out, he's coming

Naked in the shower, Alice did fall,
ice pick in hand, no scream or no crawl

Squeezing your eyes out or smashing your face
Ask all of the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake

One hundred and fifty more victims will fall
This is my place, you are not welcome at all

Mother, I love you, through all of the pain
Hide behind my mask, my machete does reign.