Others see from the outside
Spectators watching the gruesome bull fight
And imagine the pain I must be feeling with the events that life has presented for me
All that they can imagine is no where close to the numbness I endure everyday.

I wake up every morning and put my 'happy' mask on
'It's just another day' I remind myself
'I made it through yesterday'
'Just one step at a time'

The words the spectators have spoken
'You're so strong' they say
'I couldn't be as strong as you'
...strong
...strong
...strong
...but they have no clue.

I told myself
I wouldn't lie

I told myself
I wouldn't cry

I told my myself
I'd try and try and try

But you came into my life
Like a flash of light through the black
What you took from me
I could never dream of getting back

A sigh
To exhale

The nothing
I feel

Indifference is a
Human
Disease

When the problem
Addresses the judge and jury,
And your guilt is as plain
As the stain streaked
Across your sullen hand,
Take no haste - there ahead the reaper stands

I seek no embodiment of peace
I venture for no land to lease
I want only for my lips to reach
A fair lady to smile with and kiss

We'll go down away from those city sounds
Far off and past those muted hounds.
Down where a running river
Is made of mercurial gold;
Where nothing is bought
And nothing is sold.

Where I make my money
Does not make me who I am.
The sand does what it does,
Letting its actions be its purpose.

Some are meant to live for good.
Others are meant to live for evil.
Whose to judge who should be stopped
And who should continue?
All in the name of whatever feeling or belief you've been bought into,
Seeking shelter and their endless refuge.

Can you be shaped?
Can you be won over?
How much will it take
Until you've sold out another?

Seeing double through the sad song
One foot over the hill as the bullets sing
A breath a fresh air - the last of the day
Dreams are the best place to go
When you've not much to say

A subject
The problem
The role of job presents itself
Like a horse with one leg

We are
The men and women
Of the next 50 years

What would you keep?

What would you give away?

Eyes stained black, circled with lack of sleep
all in pursuit of a single letter
When all I've ever wanted in my life was to grow out of my skin
And embed myself into soil and greenery
Push myself beyond possibility
Beyond mere existence
Beyond the confinement of blood, bone and flesh
Towards life itself
Beyond matter and atoms
Towards the intangible
Through words and rhythm
Against the floor
Against my mind
Tapping every confinement hoping one day the walls would collapse
And on days like today
Where my lipstick cannot hold my smile
And my mascara betrays my soul
I feel suffocated by the hands of metal
Tall silver scrutinizing me from above
But I will never cease to push against matter
I'd rather die with my arms broken from effort
Than shrivel up in a body lacking oxygen
I look up at the loving green arms and ask for mercy
For freedom from this artificial purgatory

                                 *-lf-

i did something
new tonight
(just an fyi)

i sat
on a wet rock
next to a creek
in the rain
with a brown umbrella
darkness looming,
   i thugged it out with jay-z
i lived for the city
       with stevie
               i raged against the machine
i found my own bravado
        with lorde
   i settled down to rose darling

and i found all
the voices
compelling
as i watched leaves
fall then
hit the water
moving in a rush

i looked up at
the grey clouds
and stared at my
black shoes
i twirled the
umbrella to
watch water
spray out

and i thought
to myself,
"am i just a big mouth?"
because that's what i feel like
a big yapping
mouth

yet i am
almost always
clothed in
s i l e n c e
   ...alone
quiet
   no words are
uttered from my
lips
the majority
of each day

then why do i
feel so
loud
when i live
in my mind
when i consider
my life
through
the tick. tick. tick.

all i do
is
think think think
     /consider/
weigh
and it
gets me
nowhere
but deeper
into this
abyss of
memory and
fantasy

what are
the rest of
the humans doing?
am i in
s p a c e?
i seem to
be
in a different
realm...

and now i'm letting you know.

It seems wrong that out of this bird,
Black, bold, a suggestion of dark
Places about it, there yet should come
Such rich music, as though the notes'
Ore were changed to a rare metal
At one touch of that bright bill.

You have heard it often, alone at your desk
In a green April, your mind drawn
Away from its work by sweet disturbance
Of the mild evening outside your room.

A slow singer, but loading each phrase
With history's overtones, love, joy
And grief learned by his dark tribe
In other orchards and passed on
Instinctively as they are now,
But fresh always with new tears.

1680

Sometimes with the Heart
Seldom with the Soul
Scarcer once with the Might
Few—love at all.