The darkness of night consuming my body.
The elixir of morning keeping my mind awake.

Light or dark,
Cold or hot,
Busy or not,
Dreams do not embark.    
                                                                                                                                          
                             T                        I             R                                               G                                            
                                         W                                       L                        N
                                                                                                  I
                                            
                                                      Me        
                

                      S
                    D                                  &                             D
                   R                                                                       O
                 A                                                                           W
               W                                                                               N                                            
              P                                                                                     W
            U                                                                                          A
                                                                                                            R
                                                                                                               D
                                                                                                                   S
SIDEWAYS
                                                                &
                                                                                SDRAWKCAB

I dreamt of a notebook.
I crashed grandpa’s car and became a crook.
I fell for a girl who died.
I lost my mother’s pride.


I
         Have                                                                                                                                 Up.
                                F
                                   A                                                                                          Back      
                                      L                                                                       Me          
                                         L                                              T    
                                            E                                        F
                                              N                                  I          
                                                                So,          L

Orange is the meaning of life,
and that is why my favorite color is Green.

i get lost when Blue
becomes Black.

Yellow shows me the way, and
it is with Red that i have come to dread.

complications of Pink
confusions of Purple
oh, how they daze me in their swirl.

when the sky becomes Gray
showering the earth with White
i smile at winter’s bite.

You, girl, surely are no standard lip balm.

Uncapping joy – the end not often reached.

What that was said about kissing girls with cherry chaptstick:
It is surely truer than is a smile being contagious.

Yonder eyes, oh, my greatest of demise.

With you gone,
I am without life’s swan.

Of wavering size, warm, and safely claimed in my pocket.

Steadfast and moisturized, you bring life through the cold.

I have been branded, and rightfully so.

when life
calls to
be put
on paper

Powerful words to those benign

Of a silence that speaks loudly
Instead of ringing in your ears
It reverberates to the depths of your very self.

My slant, preserved in pixilated ink.

The sky is falling,
Someone must be bawling,
I am crawling.

Barefoot in the snow,
No more grass to mow,
I have places to go.

Joy for a boy is simply a ploy.
Coy, you wish to be my toy.

Growing older and growing up are two different ideas –
My snow angels are bigger now.

My day, perhaps insinuating of gray,
Winter woes: I must grow watchful of my toes.

My  mind, as barren as the rest of my kind.
Perhaps, then, I am blind.

High up, far away, a hint of what could be,
You are sought –
Come fly away with me.
The gloom of passion, I am smitten.
I seek light in the darkest of places.

The world is flat, as is my thoughts of it.
I bemuse even myself sometimes.
My growth, not always positive
in its negative aspects.
Life of the sequestered –
that shall surely not be me.

Without a care,
I stare.
No glare?
She is quite the mare.
What’s that she bares?
I wish to go to her lair.
To play with her hair.
We do all but sit in chairs
No air, I swear.
Between bravado and flair.  
Where, oh where?
I have but the simplest prayer.
Fare thee well; I snare.