We spent days together. smoking kush, watching the **** tube. everything seemed like it could last forever.
sometimes i wish i could go back to that place, of both calm and aware. a place where all we had to care about was what to watch.
but instead im here. alone. worried, frightened even.

when will you come back?
when will we sit together?
when will i be able to lye my head on your lap as you run your soft finger tips through my sandy hair?
when will we laugh together, smile and kiss a little?
when will we not have a care in the world?

i want it back.
i want it all back.

i hate being in a world so rushed by society.
i hate living in a community where money is everything.
i hate people who take showers every morning.
i hate people who throw their pocket change at homeless men.
i hate people who quote movies and think its cool.
i hate everybody.
but not you.
and right now, i need you



i am *dying

Do you know what my bones are wrapped in?
Uncertainty.
And I am waiting today,
uncertain as always,
if you will come or  not,
and I hope you will,
but I know if you do,
you will not have much fun.
I will wrap a blanket around my head, hiding my face from any light,
and you will wrap your arms around me and I might even shrug you away.
Today
there is no point.
This morning has made me realize that people will always keep secrets
and there are no permanent connections anywhere
and the factors that make you LOSE
are much greater
than anything that makes you win.
Dreams don't have to come true,
and people will settle
for a life they never wanted,
but they'll pretend it is good
that they are happy,
when they are working for nothing but to die.
I'll admit, sometimes I wouldn't mind dying.
Only because I've already had my 10 seconds of fame in this village,
and ladies reassure me that that was it. That is all there is room for.
That is all I am good for.
My dreams are the static of a tv set.
waver
waver
gone.
I am empty today,
and it is so silly that my biggest concern
was not having grabbed your **** yet.

God, life can be ******* pathetic.

These photos are a gateway to my memories;
They're the only remnants of things I no longer see:
The twinkling stars at the peak of twilight;
The terrifying tales around a campfire so bright,
The heart melting gaze of my new born brother,
The crash of waves as I build a sand castle with my mother.
And although they are torn and hard to see,
These photos are a gateway to my memories.

His eyes grew dark and distant
absolutely nothing wrong
He smiled without his eyes
how are you feeling?
nothing, numb, bored

Bracing each other, pushing
                                             out

Fearing the flatline, we find
one another, in the dark

Rubbing the blood back into his palms
he buries his breath in my clean hair
Counting down the seconds, we remember

Leaving the cold room, he asks
is it over now?

Well, son, I'll tell you:
Life for me ain't been no crystal stair.
It's had tacks in it,
And splinters,
And boards torn up,
And places with no carpet on the floor—
Bare.
But all the time
I'se been a-climbin' on,
And reachin' landin's,
And turnin' corners,
And sometimes goin' in the dark
Where there ain't been no light.
So, boy, don't you turn back.
Don't you set down on the steps.
'Cause you finds it's kinder hard.
Don't you fall now—
For I'se still goin', honey,
I'se still climbin',
And life for me ain't been no crystal stair.

Chase the sweetest nectar,
Blown here and there by the wind,
Chased by the storm, bask in the sun,
Endless pursuit of the ideal fun.

Battered bruised and blown off course,
But taking advantage of endless joys.
The random motion, erratic, jerky,
The sporadic flights, ever quirky.

The essence of beauty, sign of peace,
The free spirit, wanderer of love,
A creature beyond the mortal despair,
Floating gracefully through the air.

What is a cage, bars of steel walls of stone,
Or the binding placed on the soul,
Keeping one down, held in place,
The torments and torture bringing disgrace.

Don’t let the beauty be restrained,
The essence of freedom be contained,
By the woes of despair, chronic pain,
The pangs of hurt that drive insane.

The warm breeze will slip off your wings,
The flower fall out of reach,
But summer comes evermore,
With the wings of beauty it will restore.