Once a sheep
Said to the shepherd,

"What should I give
To the tree in return
For the shade I have under it."

He replied,
"Plant more trees for your friends."

you will not call my memory into question.
you will not question my memory.
see there was you and me up on a hilltop by ourselves
and then the red clouds dispersing above me
i should have killed myself
when i found out how beautiful you are.
but everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

as the afternoon sky opened up its mouth
and the air cooled down one or two degrees
i felt the world within me screaming to come out
and then i looked up at you and your hair spilled down over me.

i felt you breathing on me and i heard your voice.
your eyes were twin bonfires and your lips were moist.
i should have killed myself
when i found out how beautiful you are.
but everyone makes mistakes sometimes.

In a forest,
A lonely fawn
Said to the moon,
"what is mother?"
The moon replied,
"mother is blue sky,
Mother is my light."
He went to the sea
And said to it,
"what is mother?"
The sea replied,
"mother is my depth,
Mother is my water."
He turned to a flower
And said to it,
"what is mother?"
The flower replied,
"mother is clouds,
Mother is rain."
Then he moved to the tree
And said to it,
"what is mother?"
The tree replied,
"mother is the song of a nightingale,
Mother is my branches."
The fawn burst into weeping
And sat under the tree.
There was a small bird
Perched on its one twig.
She spoke,
"My dear!
Mother is that precious diamond
That cant be found anywhere if you lost it!"

One thing keep in mind:
Positive thoughts are mind's good health.

When you think of me
you picture a woman with arms full of
every kind of rope you can imagine.
Thick rope braided with sisal, polypropylene,
heavy steel, and other metal alloys.
Skinny rope made of nylon—the slippery kind
made to slink through the nooks and crannies.

You picture my fingers to be capable of
perfecting knots of every kind,
stubby and restless as they are.
You picture me in cowgirl boots,
a Stetson tipped, shadowing my gaze,
crafting professional lassos,
swinging them high and proud, and
looking you directly in the eye.

But it was never my intention
to tie you down.
To be free is a treacherous privilege,
one I always thought you deserved.

So, I want you to picture me
not with rope, but instead
with a  breathtaking pair of strong wings,
delicately coated in the softest ivory feathers.
I want you to watch as I stretch them out
and take off gracefully from the pavement.
And when I scoop you up in my ropeless arms,
we’ll careen, smooth and effortless,
through purple and orange evening skies.

Think of the wings next time, please,
because I only ever wanted
to help you fly.

Our thoughts are golden glow
If they shine for others' darkness

Once,
I held Time
By my trembling hand
And asked him,

                                                " who are you?"
He whispered softly
And that is translated as:
.                                              "I am your decay"

We stood there in silence
Covered by the mystery of
Night
Emptiness all around us
Only two figures standing were
You&I;
You asked me what's wrong, clueless
I slowly shook my head replying
"I'l be fine"
But than you pulled me in a
Hug
And whispered in my ear
"You can fool everyone else but not me dear"

We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

Never believe
Failure is the lock at the door,
It is a new key
To open the door of a wide shore!