We are critical.

We find flaws in
everything we see
because nobody
wants to write
about perfection,
even though sometimes
we wish we could just stay
staring into that
unblemished surface.

2. We are never satisfied.

We live our lives upon
mountains of
scrunched up
bits of refill and
ideas we gave up
trying to
express.

3. We never forget.

We write words about
eye contact made
three months ago
that we replay over
and over in our minds
even though it
stopped
being relevant.

4. We are fickle.**

Our emotions flash
from one
to the other
like strobe lighting that
disorientates us
until we feel as if
the world
will never be still.

5. We are exposed.

We don't know how
to keep our feelings
to ourselves so
we'll write them
down for
you to find
'accidentally'.

6. We are vulnerable.

We wear our
hearts on our sleeves
and won't lift a
muscle to fight back
if somebody tries
to break it
because we thrive
from the pain.

7. We will never stop.

We will never stop
feeling and
we will never stop
hurting,
we will never stop
breaking and
bleeding and
loving
even though the cycle
is endless
and we know what's
coming next.


We are addicted
to agony,
but we agonise
for the art.

Remember
When the scariest thing in the world
Was the dark?

Not with a blade
Nor with blood on my hands
But with wisdom
And compassion
May I be tyranny’s end

With poetry and prose
With the ink and the rose
With an inkling to know
Just and unjust
Right from wrong
May I be tyranny’s end

With love
Not a bullet
No bombs to blow through it
No glass shattered or metal disfigured
This is what I figured
May a revolution of words
Be tyranny’s end

Give me one world at a time,
I am doing the best I can
but there are still so many things
that I will never understand
and all I have is myself
yet I don't know who I am,
I'm still trying to accept the fact
that I am only human.

You tell me you hate the circus
That the clowns remind you of your own reflection; with painted smiles to match your own
And shoes forcing you to recall the ones you have to fill
You tell me…
You tell me that you feel like you have an elephants memory but you wish you could forget
You tell me you live life like a trapeze artist but you manage to fall every time never learning from your mistakes 
the strong man only proves your weakness
And you envision yourself a big top saving them all from sunburn but feeling your own color fade… only for them to leave
You tell me and I reply…
I tell you that the sun may fade your color day after day you are the only one who gets to feel the warmth
I tell you Your laugh is freedom pressed down shaken together and running over
Your eyes shine like raindrops falling on a blacktop just beneath the street lights
And You may be a trapeze artist but something in the way you clench your fist proves that your walking on a rope thinner than most of ours
And your personality should exist somewhere over the rainbow
I tell you… 
With tears streaming down my face because I can't believe you don't know, I tell you that your smile comes with the anticipation of the top of a roller coaster
Finally, I tell you never to see yourself a circus if you dare to forget the laughter, the families walking hand in hand, and symphony of sounds just crazy enough to be music
I tell you that you seem to have forgotten walking out of the circus hands sticky from cotton candy sure that the experience is worth the mess. Your worth the mess. 
I tell you…
You know you can tell me right