Do you remember when imagination
Ran rampant and tree houses became castles
Or the garage floor was boiling lava?
Our own little world within a much bigger one.
We were so absorbed in our own bliss that
We unknowingly sheltered ourselves from a reality
That all adults suffered through

Do you remember when you used to build legos?
An obsession with building a spaceship
To soar high above everyone and anything else.
You would show mommy your art and she'd be so impressed
And soon after, you'd be back in the lab,
Trying to surpass your previous creation
In an attempt to gain mommy's love.

Do you remember when you went camping?
We would lay in tents on the cold, hard earth
And stare off into the starry sky until serenity
Would cradle us off into slumber or the time
When your brothers/sisters kept being rambunctious,
Fighting and screaming, so much to the point where
Daddy threatened to take us all home and call it quits

Do you remember when you grew up?
You finally became the young man/woman your parents
Raised you to be for all those years.
It's time you join that reality that you so easily
Sheltered yourself from, but now caught up to you.
Reality can be a scary thing you thought to yourself
But you knew you couldn't hide from it.

School, work and sleep now rules your life.
Throw a newborn into the mix and
you've now officially joined the real world.
A world in which takes all that you give
And you don't think twice about asking.
You spend hours a day, working,
but do you remember the last time you were happy?

Just remember the little things in life and don't let adulthood swallow you whole.

writing leads you to
places
you could before only
imagine

when you ask
"why do you like to write?"
you're missing out on
something great

the question is a double-edged
sword
because there are so many
answers
to such a simple question

writing is creation

writing is passion

writing is discovering

writing is believing

writing is comfort

writing is home

and i choose to partake in this art
to ease some hidden burden
and it tastes like relief

and it is in this
that the loneliest people of the
world
are the most free.

- d.m.

What’s the best thing in the world?
June-rose, by May-dew impearled;
Sweet south-wind, that means no rain;
Truth, not cruel to a friend;
Pleasure, not in haste to end;
Beauty, not self-decked and curled
Till its pride is over-plain;
Light, that never makes you wink;
Memory, that gives no pain;
Love, when, so, you’re loved again.
What’s the best thing in the world?
—Something out of it, I think.

For four days in May I'm going into the wild
Four days in the woods sleeping under a tarp
Why? Because for four days I can sit and write
Of day time views and noises of the night
No one else will be there to disturb my thoughts
No one I will need to support
Just me with the sounds of insects and birds
Four days without worries,  four days without cares

A small slip of the tongue,
A simple flick of the wrist,
Something innocent like a first kiss,
And everything we know comes crashing down.

One love.
One choice.
One mistake.
But this is the price for the risks we take.

We can't always see,
We don't always care,
And the only thing left is the pain we all share.
Sometimes we're broken and we don't know why,
But all we can do is try.

Find the beauty in it all.
The forgiveness of a friend,
The light in the dark,
And the beautiful memories on which, in the storm, you'll depend.

You don't know the fae.
Your tales are lies.
Those with the sight,
have truly cursed eyes.

Ask the wrong question,
they'll take your tongue.
They've shattered love,
and stolen our young.

If you are there,
you best behave.
Demure their fruit,
or be ever a slave.

When being stalked,
Iron is your friend.
So keep it close,
to the possible end.

Decisive by nature,
always be wary,
do not create
A vengeful fairy.

I know the fae.
Take this to heart,
give them a second
and they'll tear you apart.

A curse of the gamer,
Not  knowing the sun,
Also knowing trinary,
two zero one.

Very anti social,
Give us wide girth,
Lowly right now,
We'll inherit the earth!

Meanest
Bleakest
Blackest
Dryest
We are the meanest, bleakest race.
Hail from the blackest, dryest place.