Dust is you must, but wouldn't be better

To paint a picture, or write a letter,
Bake a cake, or plant a seed;
Ponder the difference between want and need?

Dust if you must, but there's not much
time,
With rivers to swim, and mountains to
climb;
Music to hear, and books to read;
Friends to cherish, and life to lead.

Dust if you must, but the world's out
there
With the sun in your eyes, and the wind
in your hair;
A flutter of snow, a shower of rain,
This day will not come around again.

Dust if you must, but bear in mind,
Old age will come and it't not kind.
And when you go (and go you must)
You, yourself, will make more dust

"A lot of people ask me what my biggest fear is, or what scares me the most. And I know they expect an answer like heights, or closed spaces, or people dressed like animals, but how do I tell them that when I was 16 I took a class called Relationships For Life and I learned that most people fall out of love for the same reasons they fell in it. That's their lover's once endearing stubbornness has now become refusal to compromise and their one track mind is now immaturity and their bad habits that you once adored is now money down the drain. Their spontaneity becomes reckless and irresponsible and their feet up on your dash is no longer ****, just another distraction in your busy life. Nothing saddens and scares me like the thought that I can become ugly to someone who once thought all the stars were in my eyes."

I didn't like *** with him sober.
I couldn't stomach the taste if him
without spitting a bottle of wine
or a few lines.
Not because I didn't like the way he looked;
I liked how his body felt
and his mother didn't have to lie
when she said she had a handsome son,
but his voice didn't sooth me
and his words didn't comfort me.
He was an empty jukebox,
blaring noise.
He kept me warm when winter
was sneaking through the cracks of my
window.