I have shark teeth.
I use them to bite into myself when the night is too dark and I need that extra splash of red.
I chomp
and when I smile
it scares you.

Your scent is clinging to me
and I taste your salt.
It is too late for me to be thinking of you rather than dreaming,
too late to want to dance, but god,
if I could dance in my sleep,
my pointed toes would put holes in my covers.

little one,
with your smile so bright and grand,
never let anyone make you feel
like less than you are
you are greater than
the greatest
but you are only this way
if you believe so.

and i know you're bad
with change
because i've lived to see
what it can do to you.

your eyes are unique
for they see things
many cannot.
never let one's thoughts
ruin your vision
of this world
and what it can become.

you'll find that the beauty you once knew
will turn to disaster.
but you will
also find,
in disaster,
beauty.

who are you?
i believe i've seen you before.

your anger ignited the monstruous volcanoes
that set lava down the roads
your teardrops flooded the canyons
and the valleys
your passion burned down trees
and plants and homes

i remember you had this fire,
this fire in your eyes
because you knew what you wanted
and when
and how

you struck life like lightning
and you were set on your journey.

you were so powerful
and intelligent

and you held purpose.

it was like the earth knew you
inhabited it,
as if everything that lived was waiting
for you.

i remember your fire.
i remember you.

Not all that glitters is gold
And not all gold glitters
For you must find the glitter
The shine
Or the spark
Deep inside
Something that might not appear so

Gold glitters when you find its glitter

Blowing steam
Bubbled surface
In the still of the evening
The tea kettle sings-

A song of warmth
And tranquility
As it pours
Into a tea cup
And the tea bag sinks
Into an ocean of sighs
Before the closing of the eyes
And sweet dreams
To guide a night's journey

Listen close, dear, lean in close.
Learn the song of the crackling fire.
Your eyelids are heavy;
Let them fall.
Breathe.
Slip away into the sweetest dreams
One could ever dream.
You can let go of my hand if you want to;
I'll still be here in the morning.
Lean your head on me, darling,
And allow your mind to travel
To all those places we wish to visit
Someday.
I'll lie here and do the same.
I'll close my eyes and
If we're lucky,
We'll see eachother soon.

A pain not chosen
Yet lain at your fingertips.
And the thing is,
You're not told how to handle this pain.
You're not told what to do with it.
And so you let it attack you
And let it conquer your head
And your heart
And you wilt.
Your petals weaken at the feeling caused by
Heavy thoughts and
Heavy sentiment.

Her eyes are closed, as the moon drops down, and her superstition starts to bite. That was probably twenty years ago, with a girl I knew once. I can remember I almost cried. She was laying down on the nighttime, with the smell of the train yard creaking through the windows. With only the stroke of her arm, I could feel the softness of her life. We gathered eyelashes like ecstasy for the viewers of the world. We studied the French revolution to teach us how to move like a brown bear. But the silver-lining drew our life's in pieces and like equations on scrap-boards, we never figured our true meaning. Soon, we realized it is easier to hate someone rather than to poke a hole in their hearts. But today, I will feed my sorrow sunflowers, an odd way to make love; I will have trouble living with someone else.