I believe that,
Human wisdom
Can be summed up in one phrase:
"Full moon"
You can never see the moon "in full,"
Only half of it.
It's like,
When someone says,
"You have my full trust and devotion."
But that's only true,
Until someone better than you
Comes along to,
Give their "full" trust and devotion to.
And anyway,
The moon is never "full"
Very long either.

we so easily pluck weeds from the garden
because the look unruly and don’t go with the tulips
but in life
we don’t segregate the suicidal, emotional, and unstable
because they are that way
from the steady breathers
we are a world of dandelions
with a rare tulip

Maybe it's your hair thrashing
or the guitar in your hand
or the duck walk you have perfected.
Howling with laughter,
I try to catch my breath
and piece together words unspoken:
I want to see more of what you are doing
                                                           ­              right now

You are young and wild.
Eager and restless.
"Emotionally imbalanced",
sporadic
"unstable"
Yet you have mastered this fine dance, and
will continue to find the footing
because a new beginning will dawn
and tonight is all you have.
Yes, you are far from where you are going.
But you are in the eye of a fine tempest.
Isn't the loss of vision perfection?

It is on eves like these where
confinement to my quarters is perfection.
The crushing ideal to become the butterfly
who floats ever so gracefully
in the shadows of the neon lights
with fore and hind chitin
effervescently radiating towards
the heat source greater than my own
and pollinating each and every flower
gracing this beautiful Earth:

gratuitous metamorphosis

Tonight I will be the moth,
flickering near the light
and fluffing my feathered antennas.
My "drab" wings will shield me
from predators of land and sky,
an easy rest on this heart of oak.
Navigate me stars and Moon,
my essence attracts for miles round.

*placid animation

It’s a bubblicious nightmare,
Hell’s stagnant shock waves
converged from eclectic mass and
unsound rip tides.
Graze the protruding vein
poignant BK3,
slit the sheath and
the frame weeps of the
massacre stemmed.
A body fallen finds refuge
paralyzed whimsical mess

Java and a thimble of cream
A churning station
Clinging to the last bits coursing my veins
Lost breath
Singular stillness
Meander these Elysian Fields
Oh, won't you come with me?
Take my hand
I'll show you what I see
A mystical haze
A surreal nature
A whimsical twirl
the Sun caressing your mortal being
I want to stay here forever
Please, come with me

It is not drishti;
It is my ignorant staring
that draws me into you

Neither eyes, head
nor heart softens
straining to meet your gaze

Yearning, longing
unspoken earnest
an ensnared frenzy

The alien depths of
complicated blues
dismember me

The tales and odes
craft and song;
mimic sweet melodies

Basking in warmth
tracing footsteps;
following blindly

But this is fleeting faith
euphoric delusions
****** girlish fantasies

you leave me
again;
naked, empty

Repeated assessments in
blood-red marks;
*** laude in foolery

Yet I rise once more
reassemble the remnants
move forward

For that is all I know,
and I fear;
all I will ever know

It's when you wake up.
It's the first inhalation of breath that brought you back to consciousness.
It's the first physical sensation that occurs,
The first thought that sparks.

It's how you wake up,
be it tangled in another's limbs,
when you kiss despite morning breath and dry lips.
Or be it promising yourself you'll get back to bed as soon as you're able,
Trying to convince yourself you're still stable, and that you'll make it through another day.

These mornings blur recklessly,
I hardly remember who I am.
I am ready to wake up feeling home again.

When your best friend tells you that she hasn’t eaten anything today, don’t laugh along with her like it's some kind of contest, hold her hand and tell her you love her and she's beautiful

When your sister says that the neighbours cat got a little nasty, don’t roll your eyes and shrug along with her, pull her close and tell her about the time she taught you how to ride your bike and remind her that you never want to be an only child

When the boy next door tells you that he fell during gym for the twelfth time this month, don’t giggle and tell him to stop being so clumsy, give him an ice pack and let him tell you about all the doors and stairs that hit back until his throat is raw and he feels a little less alone