You are the art. You are the artist and the artist is love and the love is the creator and the creator is the artist and you are the art. The artist is the art and the art is the artist. You are love and you plant seeds of yourself. You plant seeds of energy, thought, and emotion in the garden of your life and you are the garden. You are the garden and you are the gardener. The seeds' shells crack, the insides come out, and everything changes, and your shell cracks and all your insides come out and everything changes. Tendrils reaching up and up and it is growing and you are growing. You are giving them time to grow, space to grow, and love and you are giving yourself time to grow and space to grow and love... to grow. The plants will grow and grow and you will grow and know that they will blossom and you will blossom and when they blossom they will blossom out of your garden and into another's and so shall you.

Working, working, working, working, working, writing,
working,
writing,
writing,
writing,
drinking,
eating,
wasting,
breathing,
crying,
screaming,
waiting,
dying.

We are engulfed by loud noise,
Perpetual loud noise,
The inconsiderate drone of day to day existence,
and equally as inconsiderate voices of the loud people,
in the loud streets,
with their loud lives,
and loud schedules,
concerned with their loud promises,
and loud deadlines,
who never stop to listen to the other voices in the loud streets,
with their loud cars,
and loud crossroads.
The loud world in which we live can be tuned out,
and it is because of these loud voices,
in the loud streets,
of this loud world that we are used to ignoring what noise there is.
I still wish for silence.
However,
Within this bottled loud noise is a thunder,
You,
You being the quiet person you always have been,
You are the loudest noise of all.
You rip into my skull and rattle my ear drums,
You tear needles through my nervous system,
and weave through every fibre I possess until my thread comes undone,
and I'm a loud, de-tangled, empty shell,
in a loud de-tangled full up world.
And before I know it, you're back again,
You and your loud, loud quiet,
and you melt me back together,
and I still wish for silence,
and you tangle your loudness within mine,
and we fill up the bottled noise of this loud world,
with it's loud streets,
and it's loud people,
with loud promises,
and loud deadlines,
and loud schedules,
with their loud lives,
with our inconsiderately loud quiet,
and finally-
It's silent.