Sibling rivalry
Two, spiteful jealousy
One, empty living

shifting blue
with purple flirtations
the human is found
sifting through

drifting sounds
and ****** expressions
cast out
past the navy

rolled out like a blanket
laced with death's fine dust
stars to look on,

while two periwinkle boats on the lightblue gloat

stars to trust

making them awkward,

AS MY EYES LOOK ON

making them float

doesn't the world ever drive you crazy?
persistent, shifting blue

I hope you understand what it’s like to be alone
So that when you meet someone
You’re able to appreciate their presence
More deeply

Ah, the fallacy
in talk of tree limbs
and fragments of the broken-apart.

                     Those scars opened a rare window
                     below the cloud tops
                     and into her room,
                     where a new dress of fallen leaves
                     hung in her wardrobe,
                     fleshing out her understanding
                     of how that blemish
                     lingered long enough for
                     her own intentions,
                     hidden behind the frown,
                     to surface.

The myth in her eyes
wishing they could say,
"Might we share this fall together?"

And now the real test begins,
sink or swim, pass or fail.
Well, it's not an exam in
the true sense of the word;
I won't receive a grade or
a score.

This is life,
at its grittiest, goriest,
glorious best.
This is death;
crawling closer with
every wheezing, and
scrawled stroke of
the pen.

I have plenty of nay-sayers,
and my God,
I wouldn't have it
any other way.
Every good drama
or piece of fiction, or
any ******* life worth
living needs strong
antagonists, and to mine
I say this:
sometimes, you have to
walk through the fire
to get to the other side.