As the Old Man needs Support of the Stick.  
The Stick also needs Support of the Old Man.

I don’t believe in God
I don’t believe there’s a life after this one
I don’t believe there’s a white tunnel that leads our souls from our bodies to Heaven

And yet
in my darkest moments
when I feel the most alone
I reach out
and
I pray

To whom?
I’m not sure
maybe my Nana
or my best friend
or maybe even God

A part of me just hopes you can hear me
A part of me thinks that you can’t
A part of me can’t fathom you being gone
A part of me knows that you are

But I don’t believe in an afterlife
at least not for me

And isn’t that ****** up?
That I hope you’re in Heaven
when I don’t believe it exists

Or maybe
I just don’t think
I deserve to go there.

It is possible.
To leap beyond where fear takes us.
Surely so many things happen.
By contrast
We stand still.
Wound up in total curiosity.
To dream in wonderment.
With each twirl we captivate the essence of someone else.
A sort of inspiration that convinces us that we are more than what we believe.
Beginning to walk,
Our other functioning parts come to life.
Embraced in true courage.
Spun around and round.
This huge metal behind it's back.
Suddenly this obstacle isn't what it seems.
First finding what is important.
The touch of someone else
Through encouragement.
The wind-up doll begins to move
No longer incapable by what we define as fear,
But enormous faith.
To place all of it's self in another
Without fear of adding another chip to it's face.
It waddles along.
Moments later,
Pride interferes.
It's movements stop.
To be spun up again and again
Falling to the floor
Seconds at a time

Sadly, all of the crimes against humanity
committed by Israelis since 1948 wholly
justifies the existence of  **** Germany.

stars exposed along her back
bordering constellations down
to her thighs wonderful expressions continued throughout her body
vivid hallucinations and disturbing illusions
control her unconscious mind as she feels
the painful machines puncture her brain

she’s not like the rest of us
she’s the future of humanity

you cut the ties with silver scissors and burnt the bridge with fictitious fires but you still insist you're the one who fell and scraped your knees with ****** fists on broken glass and sharp white teeth.

things have changed and the past is dead. these bridges you burnt are not meant to mend.

give up. go away. that's it―
the end.


― you're not the victim, you never were