The pain passes from me to you
A loss is not just a loss
It is a decaying of the soul;
It is a hole that will never go away,
A fight that eats away at you.
I never wanted anyone else to feel it.

Physical pain doesn't compare
To the type of pain I am describing.
Blood pouring from a wound
Feels better than losing someone of the same blood;
We now share this pain.

Now, my friend,
Do not cry
Or do cry.
It is okay to mourn in your own right.
He is gone,
And it is okay to feel empty forever.

I understand.

Lots of people say that
Frankenstein's monster, Adam,
Wasn't that bad.
He wasn't that evil.
He was just lonely
And misunderstood.

But does anyone cry for
Dracula?
Did anyone try to understand that he got turned into a monster,
And spent 200 or so years all by himself,
Slowly being driven mad
From loneliness and heartbreak?

And that he only did what he did,
Because it was the only way he knew how
To make the loneliness stop?
It was a last resort,
He wasn't trying to do anything wrong.
His intentions, though selfish,
Weren't bad.

And does anyone ever pray for Lucifer?
For the one sinner who needed it most?
Maybe if someone would reach out a hand,
Some forgiveness,
And some mercy,
It wouldn't be so bad.
We wouldn't have so much evil,
Because he'd rethink his ways,
After being given the chance
To once more be in a state of grace.

But no.
We can't,
Because we're told
They're evil,
They're wrong,
And they don't deserve
Forgiveness or mercy.

I would like to think
That even the worst
Kinds of people
Can change and be forgiven.
I might be wrong,
But I have a forgiving heart.
So let me forgive those
Who need it.

(You have a confessing heart,
So let me hear what you have to say,
And I promise I will take all that pain,
All that guilt away.)

But if God is all forgiving,
And all powerful,
Shouldn't he be able to forgive
His angel who needs it the most?

Somewhere along the way
I picked up a heavy load
of dead wood, a couple of degrees
east of East Tennessee,
a few bottles uncorked,
problem women, and another
woman, a child, and a mortgage,
all while I wandered down the left fork
of the wrong road like the red silt
in a river that has forgotten
its source, but enjoying the scenery,
the journey, and, of course,
the paths I tended to leave
through the high weeds where I lost
myself and my footprints so loud
I could hear them before I left them
on the ground behind me
like hollow dreams trampled down
beneath the feet that I follow.

What makes my tongue
salivate for more
What flavors make my
knees weak and shaky
A closet foodie with
a need to break out
To share the experience
from appetizer to dessert,
from ambience to seating
The essence pulls us in
and overwhelms, yet we
remain steadfast to be
objective in our critique
At the onset of the bite
I connect to the SAVORY
sensation my taste buds
stimulate almost instantly
Over and over again I
consume until my
gluttonous conscience
shames me to my core
Ironically enough... I
would do it all over again.

Glass falls from the leaves,
Of a tree so green,
Sun shines in my eyes,
Splitting for me,

Rainbows full of living color,
Flashes for my sighs,
So beautiful  I cannot grasp it,
It lies on my tongue but for a moment,
And the wind whips it away,
Evanescently singing, it cannot stay

she penned a note
in girly curling cursive,
blue on white lined paper,
taped it to his carrier, a cage
one size too small

"he bit me, crapped on my floor,
made thousand anxious scratches
on  my door"

she didn't intend to report his heinous
crimes in rhyme, but she did; they were enough to get him the needle, ministered mercifully, of course

though cursive's now a dying art,
it's sufficient to sign another death
decree--for slaughter, we know,
can be accomplished
with any font

We're born with hopeful wonder
We're born with tempestuous emotion
We try not to get pulled under
But get swept up in devotion

We get older and chip away
Rust in the sinking water
Trying to hold onto Maye
Always unwillingly slaughter

We mutate to an object inhumane
Excuse it with "It's in our DNA"
Seems like we're all on *******
Have brain damage more every day

We **** each other left and right
Trying to cope and manage
Wrecked brain and no sight
We create collateral damage

So don't say "I'm only human"
Blaming everything except yourself
I think it's time you tune in
And take the book off the shelf

Your eyes are covered by your own hands
What is it you fear?
It's pathetic and sad
You can't see you are your own puppeteer

Do not look at me
with sad eyes
reflecting a life
you choose to hate

Good intentions backed by bad juju

I see it
behind your dead end job
hidden in your lack of hobbies

There in the emptiness in your mind
is the remnants
of the dream you let atrophy

As it got weak
you got stuck in a place
you thought would be another stepping stone

Do not look at me
with eyes shooting bile
behind a smile that breeds contempt

I refuse to be touched
by your silent hope
of my failure

You cannot **** my dreams
just because
you let yours die

Do not look at me
with eyes that plead for me
to carry you along for my ride

It is mine alone
My dream
cannot feed you

I will not lay it at your feet
to sully it's purity
with the soles of the shoes
you use to walk
through your own crap

Do not look at me
with the hope that my dreams
With give their life for yours

"Smile and the world smiles with you"
only works
when hope springs eternal

There is no hope
in that job that grows
while watching your soul die

So I do not smile
as I walk down the street

I look straight ahead
holding fast
to all that makes me whole

And if I do look at you...

I look at you
with kindness
and I am happy for your success

I look at you
with understanding
for we are all going through
the consequences of our choices

I look at you
with hope that you see me
and remember you once had a dream

I look at you
and wish you love and peace

and maybe

Reflected in my eyes
You can see
the best of who you are