Hey you,  
Yes, you.
Don't do that to yourself.
Don't allow someone to treat you like that.
This is your life.
Don't let other people burn you to the ground.

Hey you,
Yes, you.
You put the ******* stars in the sky.
Your are gold.
You are art.
Stop letting people make you feel small.

You are fascinating, don't surround yourself with people who are not curious about you.

I believe that you are a miracle and its about time you started to believe it too.

when did i last spend a good time?

a second, a minute, an hour, a day
one undiluted, unmixed, pure, and raw,

a good time, truly good, without a flaw.

was it those moments of ******* height
when sans one sense, all else was dark night

or the time spent brief in her warm embrace
seeking her moons reading map on her face

it could be the while when a gust of joy
made this heart shine like a boy

a flashing streak of event that lit up the soul
from pieces of fragments revealed the whole

getting from a girl her kiss of innocence
drench with her in first summer rains

reaching a heaven from far firmament
by a smile from the boy a dime i lent

turning that page of a now lost time
when this mind first chanced upon a rhyme

they rush like tide set me to brood
from the budding child to the aging manhood
where in the memory now thick with grime
lies hidden the passing of the last good time!

Most times,
I live on the pause;



the lingering,
between what you say,
                    and what I hear.
The livid moment of incessant
existence when I take from life,
the meaning within moments.
The weight of a second, drawn
like blood,
from the bare atmosphere.