If he dies, he dies
With trouble on his mind
Future looking hazy
This is the end of the line
With a cigarette in hand, walking to the water
He hit the bottle hard, longing for the other
One, in his life that could make all this right
But this is the real world, not a dream
And after that fight
She isn't coming back, he knows this in his heart
As he looks up to the sky
Praying for this life to stop
Not thinking of the good things
Trapped in a world full of pain
Blinders on, paranoia rules here
No love left, just hate
Chemical dependencies couldn't take him away
The six shot revolver, couldn't decide his fate
So he turned his hood up and walked into the distance
Praying for an act of God to please
Simply just end this

You know those tears you get
When you can't stop laughing
Because you don't want to
And they just rest on your cheeks
Until you finish your laughter
And you wipe them away

You know those tears you get
When you watch a sad movie
And you feel like the characters are real
Even though they're not
And the tears just rest by your lips
Until the movie is over
And you wipe them away

You know those tears you get
When you say goodbye to a friend
And you don't want them to go
But they need to go
And the tears just rest on your chin
Quivering
Until the dust settles
And you wipe them away

You know those tears you get
When you walk down the aisle
And everything is perfect
When love is beautiful
And the tears just collect on your eyes
Until you need to blink
And you wipe them away

You know those tears you get
When you remember yesterday
And you wish it were alive again
But it isn’t
And the tears just fall to the ground
They soak into the Earth
And you can't wipe them away

this day was not like any other.
hot air from her lungs
swirled steam in the death
of November.

I felt trust for the first time.
I trusted her to leave.

I crack a corny joke out of sheer anxiety,
I say: "Well, it is the fall."

She doesn't smile, or speak, of course.

She does the talking with her eyes,
and all I hear is goodbye.

my sister thought my mother
had died on her lap;
she walked to the bathroom
inside that depthless hospital hotel.

the putrid smell of life and death
all through-out this concrete heaven
and hell.

at the age of fifty-four
my mother's bones would
carry no more weight.

her gentle heart
her forgiving mind
her words so strong

but mine,
they are forced out
by constricted wind-pipes
and angry words

i glanced down at the cot, where my mother died
as I made contact with my mother's pale-blue eyes
she looked at me with the most helpless,
childish face I've ever seen.
as if to say:
"he isn't here.. where is he...
where could he be?"

she lived thirty more minutes.

he arrived a few hours later, asking:
"how's she doin'?"

never take for granted,
someone's borrowed time.

Finding the truth is hard
Observing the decoy is impossible
Returning to reality is difficult

My life can be confusing as
Your life right now, my friend

Fighting all alone at the last
Remaining battle field
Interrupting the peace but
Ending all the greed
Nothing feels so much better than
Doing good things for people

Knowing the truth hurts
Allowing it to devour you
Tells you how much you've learned
Everything is always meant to happen

Thinking hard about you
I got on the bus
and paid 30 cents car fare
and asked the driver for two transfers
before discovering
that I was
alone.

This silence deafens me,
Surrounded by recurring faces,
In a room flooded with sound-
Yet I've never felt so alone

But I can't escape my mind,
Cannot run in the labyrinth of my soul;
Out of breath- yet so alive-
My imagination unleashed
into the ebony void of oblivion.

A key- no lock, a door- no handle,
Follow my footprints, I beg you please!
But they're invisible-
Washed away by the moonlit tide.

Painted masks, reflections and shadows
are all they see, yet why don't they realise?

I try to yell- and they're all listening,
Yet my scarlet voice fails to reach their ears.
Because no one can save me now- except myself.
And that's out of the question.

Read between the lines of an empty page-
Separated by slim yet strong walls of emotion,
This is my battle- of which I must fight.
I won't win, but what does that matter?

Stretched out empty hands
and the shards of a broken mirror,
The silent waters break my reflection.
And I have never looked more beautiful.

My pen has long since become hungry for ink-
Yet I still write
with the tears seeping from my eyes,
Long into the eternal night-
When the stars and I have drowned in the moons embrace.

And now, as the rain dances upon my window like piano keys,
I appear just as I should.
A swirl of ink. A jigsaw puzzle. Myself.

For my body does not own me,
Nor do I have the right to change it-
But still, I continue to do so.
For I need a slender frame. I need the scars.
But however much I long for them- they are out of my reach.

So no- I am not my body.
Merely a whisper of the wind,
An invisible footprint in the sand.

And my brain and my imagination
they merge together in a pallet of grey and rainbow,
Until all I have left to clasp onto
are the hands of time, and my steady heartbeat.
Two worlds collide- Enemies embrace.
Bridges collapse and tunnels cave in.

The impossible has been accomplished-
and I don't want it to stop.

What.
Have.
I.
Become?

I'm sorry you had to steal
what was already freely given.
I hope your heart never burns
like mine did the day I wrote that.
I give to you freely
what you honestly deserve,
that is a second chance,
and a word of advice.
Give from yourself,
no gift can ever be poorly graded.