If a word paints a picture,
and a picture is worth a thousand words,
then what is the worth of a word? It seems

the fibers of the fabric are the words we've woven to create the canvas on which we paint pictures that are worth a thousand words;

words painting pictures that are worth a thousand words onto canvases woven from words that are the fibers of the fabrics.

If a word is worth a thousand words,
then a word paints a million pictures.

Poetry is a quirk of the soul
A seamless song of connections
Where the word rules its truth
And  its spirit encounters you

.               her **** sprinkled spine.
                her blackened fingertips from a day cleaning and smoking in
                the pre-spring heat.
                her knife atop the stump.

memory is the root of mankind’s trouble.

                  lullabies  
                  her mother used to sang,
                  as the fish gasped and to the bone.
                  
wilderness, a strange enchanted girl.
              
            her bioluminescent tent.
            her blackened beans and tortilla-leaves and peelings of cheese.
            her knife to whittle a twig.

her moments grow like gardens left alone to ghost-over.
to sample the city wilderness
& then slip further away into a rearview idea.
new republic.

                  paradise. she’s up that trail there.

Let my thoughts flow onto this paper. The pen is my surgical knife, the ink is my blood. I put everything i have into every letter and word this is my true love.

These lines on this paper are my addiction i cant stop at just one. Every exclamation point is like an earthquake or someone screaming in your face!

Every question mark is like turning down a one way road and ending up in the wrong place. Some sentences are written in code. Just leave me with this pen and paper and let me get in my zone..

our world is collapsing
our minds are very suicidal
we have knives in our hands
and we fake it everyday
we hope it'll be okay
but it won't be today or any other day

Shaken at the core of my being.
I feel I'm losing touch.
From all the things that I adore.
And love so much.
Giving in to this filthy world.
Holding on by the spool.
Will I overcome this hell in me.
Or drown as a fool.

Buried deep in this hole.
I feel like letting go.

Faith is deteriorating.
Morals slowly decaying.
What have I become?
Take me back to the days.
Where I felt that I was one.
With the ones I hold dear.

Please don't let me fall away!
I'm holding on barely and praying!
Begging you to save me!
Wearily but strongly I'm holding on!
(By an inch of faith of my own thread!)
To see the light of day!

Lord I know that I'm a sinner.
And I try my hardest to break away.
But each day it gets harder and harder.
When my flaws are thrown back at me.
Hanging my head in shame.
As I look in the mirror
Knowing I could make a change.
If only I'd see clearer.

Grant me the peace I need.
To make it through the day.
Renew my heart of guilt and sorrow.
So I can find my way.
I know you are there there through the darkest of greys.
So give me all I need
To see when you reach for me
I will grab your hand!!!

My primary love is 
to go well with you
My secondary love is
to grow well with others