I want to teach you
to forgive the world
starting at the beginning
and arriving at now,

I want to resurrect the naivety
of that blue-eyed
annoyance in the bedroom
down the hall
who stole my shoes and
my concealer

because i just wasn't
that observant

I want to take my cup
and drain the happiness into yours
because

I don't want it.

I want to know
i could give you movie night in the living room
and bedtime stories before lights out

give you what I didn't know I took

Evenings mornings afternoons -

here.

Take them.

We can pass them
around the table,
like trading cards.
I'll give you a morning,
you give me an evening,
trade until our decks are switched.

You take my cards,
you take each one,
learn the colors and
remember it
like it was yours to begin with.

Take a gulp from that cup
and let it drip down your chin,
I'll get you a napkin
while you live my moments,
drink them in.

If I could write them in a book
or paint them on the walls
I would,
     then you could see them.
you could take my place.

You take my memories,
and all my moments,
I'll take your tears
your tremors
your night-mares
your fears -

and i'll live those for you,

While you rewind
and laugh backwards
into my childhood

your childhood

A childhood with
tire swings
and Easter-egg hunts,
Christmas gifts
and pancakes at sunrise.
It's yours.

It doesn't feel real
to me anymore
anyway.

I didn't mean to let it change me.
I didn't mean to become your enemy.
They said

take the little blue pill once a day

and you'll feel better.
They have degrees for that kind of thing,
so like a compliant idiot,
I agreed.

Every day with a glass of water,
before I went to bed at night,
I downed the seed of my misery.
Our misery.

And while I wasn't looking,
it broke into my thoughts
into my actions
into my conscious

Made me feel guilty when
there was no wrong.
Made me lose track of
where I was going.  
Made me lose sleep
over unfinished conversations.
Made me lose sight
of the sparkle in your eyes.
Made me lose bits and pieces of
the person that you loved.

And I didn't see it
until it was too late.

**** doctors don't
know what they're talking about
after all -

telling people to pay
a small fortune to
lose the treasures they
don't even know they have yet.

Then when those treasures are gone,
when all they have is that little
blue pill and a glass of water,
Who are they then?
Who are you?
Who am I?

We're left as shells of who
we were,
because we swallowed tiny ***** of
hatred before we slept,
before we lied there
in contempt waiting for
something,
anything to take away that
feeling of emptiness
that
acidic churning
created by those
who told us all that it
would be okay.
That it would be better.

Let me tell you something.

Though I know that you're right,
that it will be better,
though I know that those little
pills haven't ruined me,
their effects will fade,

in this moment,
this moment that feels like
forever,
it won't be okay.
it won't be better.

And in this moment,
I need someone to blame.

And I can't blame the doctors,
because they thought
what they did was right.
And I can't blame you,
because you had nothing
to do with it.

I can only blame me,
because I saw it all
too late.

Because by the time I knew
I was spiraling endlessly downward,
I was already at the bottom.

Let me wonder
Let me ask myself
where I came from

She shall be called Woman,
because she was taken
out of man.

I find it hard to believe
that we emerged from
some soup
that just happened to be
in the right place
at the right time.

And the Lord formed
a man of the dust of the
ground.

That two
infinitesimal
specks collided
somewhere billions of
miles away,
millions of years ago,
and suddenly there was
something.

Let there be light.

That our home is just
a rock that was compelled
to fall into the orbit of
a young ball of fire
in that something that
came to be from
nothing.

And God called the dry land Earth.

If we just happened,
then why are we here?

If we just happened,
we're just here to breathe.
To live.
To work.
To die.

If we just happened,
our purpose is to
be.

do all to the glory of God.

But I don't want to be.
I don't want
to live
to work
to die
because nature says
that's my job.

Seek first the kingdom of God
and His righteousness

and I don't want to do things
that could hurt others
for personal gain.

and all these things
will be added unto you.

I want to live a life with meaning.
A life that is a means
to an end.
A life that is important
to more than just myself.

For God so loved the world
that He gave his only begotten
Son.

So let me wonder
where I came from.
Let me question my
existence.
Let me mull over
your words in my
mind,
and guide me to the answers.

Thy word is a lamp unto my feet,
and a light unto my path.

Bring me to the understanding
of
how
who
why
I am.

*For I know the thoughts
that I think of you.

To bring you to an expected end.

When the starlight isn't enough
and the moon won't show her face,

tell me,
do you see me?

Do you see those freckles,
and the crooked dimple,
just one,
on the left?

And when I turn,
can you see
my dark hair dancing
as the breath of summer
follows me
to the back door?

When the light is gone,
do you know who I am?

Can you see the curve of
a sun-kissed nose
and pale shoulders
through the
black empty air?

The beating of
moths' wings
and the soft trill of crickets
can't seem to distract

from the sounds
that your eyes make,
tracing each step I take
away from you.
from the thump of your
heart beat -
from the swell of your breathing -


if you heard
that black empty air
filling my lungs,
would you know it was me?

Would you know
from the soft echo
beneath my ribs
who I was?

Can you

learn the sound
of my silence?

teach me something
about myself
with just your
hazel eyes?

Learn me slowly,
the way
leaves learn to sway
in the breeze.


And when you know me by careful starlight,
when you hear that echo in my chest
when you can count my freckles in innocent darkness,


take my hand.
walk me to the door.


                 tell me what you see.

Words
***** of fiery gas
swirling galaxies behind your eyes,
those constellations tell you
stories, stories of how you
became who you are.
Stories of how God gave you
what you have.
Stories of

mornings and evenings and sunrise and lilacs and comets and red dwarfs
and green grass and  black holes and the lack of understanding we have of it all.

The words tell us
we are
elephants to the
Earth when we are
ants to the milky way.
There and gone in an
instant,
an eternity.

When you realize that
what you believe
is just an illusion –
the thought takes your mind by storm
Once it’s there, it’s caught
a comet
in the cosmos of your mind
swerving between your thoughts,
planets,
caught in the rings of an
orbiting idea
who's to say it'll
ever end?