---         ---         ---         ---         ---         ---         ---         ---         ---

the scars that line your wrists remind me of
fallen paper planes, like you
tried so hard to make it perfect, to
make it go places, to make it wonder
through hills but instead it went crashing down like
your tears midway, like it thought it was hopeless
you thought you were hopeless because all
the other planes had engines and
they were battery operated from the start,
so statuesque so perfect
they were trained from the start to stand tall,
****** in stomachs, labored breathing and it
hurts so much but it doesn't matter because they
were pretty, the best of the best
and you were just left in the dirt, stuck in the mud
like a fallen paper plane so you gave yourself
paper cuts because you thought you deserved it, you thought
that they were right, that everybody else was just born better than
you; they must've received some sort of memo
that you didn't because god it feels like that,
it feels like a bitter desperation and a lonely hatred all
at once because some part of you hates their beach blonde hair
and magazine worthy body
but the worst part is not watching them receive praise
and lead the life you can only dream about, no,  
the worst part is knowing that no matter what
you will never be able to compare to them because
you are a fallen paper plane, filthy from the dirt you had fallen
in, scarred from the thoughts you can't turn off, and hopeless;
already too old to know better than false naivety

what they never tell you however,
is how easy it is to rebuild a paper
plane and how all batteries will expire
and one day, that certain shade of beach blond hair
will become discontinued and that
life goes on until it decides to stop  

(h.l.)

Give thanks for your Family

Give thanks for your Water

Give thanks for your Body

Give thanks for the Earth

Give thanks for the Air

Give thanks for Others

Give thanks for Mind

Give thanks for Food

Give thanks for Life

Give thanks for Fire

Give thanks for Art

Whatever it is
for which you give thanks,
I beseech of us all:
just please show
some respect and gratitude!

One of the great joys of Life
is doing what One is told can't be done-
thinking about what One is told not to-

I enjoy finding out first-hand
what's up with our reservations
then scrutinizing rationalizations.

I, for one,
refuse to respect mere appeals to authority
without some sort of prerequisite validation:

For far too long
have we gone along with being told
we must hold such toxic philosophies
so very close to our Hearts and Souls
by what is eventually revealed to be
rather disingenuous authority.

"If your Spirit feels a little sick,
just keep suffering through it:
that means it's working.
That's how it's been set up.

If you can't stomach it,
we made these pills for that.
Though, they'll cost you.
The price One pays for biochemical placification is steep.

Side-effects include but are by no means limited to:
a loss of health, wealth and even parts of your Self;
but please don't worry. It's for the greater good..
Don't you want to be under control?
After all, it is all you've ever known,"

quoth the Infallible
as they **** People dry
even in broad daylight-
body, mind, and bank account-
for their own economic, political, and social sustenance.

What is that if not a form of a form of vampirism?
The infected bites on our necks are metaphysical.

Demons in Prophetic clothing,
but I guess they dress for success.


-
See,
I try to look for Light
where others say there's only Darkness,
but I also see Darkness
where others see only Light.

Interpreting Adversity as Opportunity
works wonders for creative problem solving;
learn how to entice your Imagination.
It will pursue things on it's own if you let it.

Your intellect will thank you for the playmate.