So silent in here,
I should rather sleep.

My wrists lay frail and bound
on the tops of my thighs
bruised, fragile
all because I couldn't learn
to say the words to
break the chains that bind me
so tightly to the lies that
weigh me down with
every word that leaves
your mouth.

Preparing the ground
in this fertile mind
putting down roots
with the fervour I’ve found

Digging down deep
planting thought bulbs
hope will rise up
Their green shoots will
abound

Picking petals one by one
Counting every blessing seen
Rainbows on the wooden fence
Still life painted in a dream

Hedges run a distant mile
Shaped as every promise shown
Cutting corners of the lost
Happiness in what is grown

I’m cutting back the choking weeds
of doubt and negativity
And moving on the slugs and snails
that stunt my productivity

With mind over matter
this garden will bloom
this change is organic
and normal service
will not resume
(who wants to be normal
anyway?)

I’ve been sowing seeds
with faith love and prayer
In ground once barren
songs will blossom there

Melodies fragrant and free
Tiny sprouts of grand design
Break the soil seeking light
Flourishing for it is time

*Sing with me my garden friend
Walk along my winding path
Smell the beauty on the wind
Life shall be the aftermath

See colors
Hear beats
Have wonders
Feel a kiss of peace
A mess of confusion
I'm caught in a storm I will never see
The illusion
of a calm that will never be
Awoken in the morning
Disoriented and blind
Forgetting my mother's warning
"Don't associate with them, they aren't your kind"

You take my hand
"Didn't see you there," I laugh
Carry me to the sand
Look, on my behalf
You let me listen to the waves
I recognize the change in your inflection when you smile
And my heart caves
You're my lily of the Nile

My ice cold beer in Hell
The lock on my door
A secret I don't have to tell
My everything, you're

I have trust
I have love
In this world that I must

I am enthralled with the idea
  of gnawing on thoughts
    complicated enough to transform into thought provoking sentences.

I find comfort in the idea
  that i have been given a chance to care after
    the body in which i have inhabited.

I find my thirsty heart, quenched
  as liquid drills its way through the passages of my
    mouth, throat and body.

I am enthralled with the idea that
  i have been given the opportunity to
   create, own, and explore the depths of my existence.

Stuck in this whirlwind, lungs collapsed.
“Cut the grass, go to college, kid.”
Pick up the slack.
Simplicity doesn't exist in a world of
blue collars, white collars,
greasy politics and misfits.
Be the one percent who picks up the rotten scent,
like a truffle pig striving for a win.
I want a girl to pop my thought bubbles with a safety pin.
“Pitter, patter”,
sounds of summer rain and the innocent.
When you have a dream, follow it,
because it’s hard to chase after something when you've forgotten it’s existence.
I don’t know what to do when I grow up,
I refuse to get stuck, but it’s hard to go anywhere in life
when you associate all of your accomplishments with luck.
People who eat people must be the luckiest people in the world,
because they don’t seem to have to worry about
taxes, religion, homework, or girls.
Worrying makes me puke,
and ironically enough,
I doubt that worrying makes cannibals hurl.

Making love,
a sweaty pit stop
between the sheets.
Politicians,
librarians,
directors,
janitors,
authors,
qu­eens,
kings,
moms,
you,
me,
All guilty of this bittersweet act of sticky significance.
All willing to tangle our limbs every night.