i want you to be happy

even if it means i can't

I feel at home in the liminal        in the space inbetween,
between past, future, reality       fantasy, this, that.  
In the liminal, the past and         future lap around me,
demanding waves that climb      high and share their spray.
The salt water clings to my          hair, stiffens it like straw
and I stay, ungrowing in              the liminal.
I live between thresholds             on the threshold
and sometimes the tension          tugs and tears and rips
my fingernails, my hair                my skin.
Thresholds are supposed             to hurt, to push, to compel
but it’s where I rest and               make my home.

The liminal does not rip me apart as it should.

It’s hollow in the liminal             a void that digs my insides
out. It’s a cave in there                 walls of apathy and dread.
My mind grows in on                   itself and I live in it,
where it plays in the                    liminal.
It cannot survive                          beyond the threshold
so I stay in the house                   where the windows are
clear and the doors                      are unlocked. Nothing is
keeping me in but                        myself.
I feel at home in                            the liminal, where the tensions
hurt and erode                              but it’s safe here,
or safe enough                               in the space inbetween.

I fear the sea and the tides so I stay on the shore.
It hurts but not as much as it should.

when the moon
blinked, he saw

me, angry
but not mad. i

have stars under
my tongue.  i
won’t swallow

and my bones
scream to be let out
from under my skin—

they are the fire
on the surface

my keyboard is broken
like me
so some leer will be missing
hoefllly yo can ndersand
i'm broken
and like my keyboard
i'm missing things which
i can be cant be wihot
if yo can ndersand this
then maybe yor broken o
becase yo ndersand my brokeness which
is more then i ca say abot alot of eole

And all the journeys I made were worth it:
The offerings to the Gods above
The whispers to the Gods beneath
The curses to the humans on earth
The idolatry of my heart to others
Fornication of my dreams with impostors
Robbery of my hopes from other couples
Almost ****** of the thing called "love"

You awaken me from the slumber with a kiss
Tears cascaded as your lips brush softly
But the silver droplets belong to you
"Why are you crying?" I asked of you
"I thought you were lost to me" you reply
If this is what it feels to kiss you my love
I will hold on for another decades for it
I will endure another 500 years of waiting

O city, don't cry more, don't sigh
God will listen to us I hope
You will be calm and it will be peace
Around and everywhere I do know
No shooting in malls, no fire in stores
No ghost will roam about the streets
No killing of students, no bloodshed
Man will not be devil, no treachery
No **** of mother sister and wife
No stabbing at home, no suicide
Look to heaven, look O my city
Happiness will sprout and grow
And you will be again, O city
Like the garden that wears green
Satan can't reign for long no lucifer
No spirit can fly invisible for ruin
God is with Virtues, with us, with all
Only we need to turn to him, O city

Yes, We've been through a LOT. (Underline a LOT)

Some of us have fought

Together, we still stand

United as a band

Living isn't for eternity

But, allow this journey

Room for friendship and free thought.