A suit of colored feather
Flamingo toucan tux
I wear my joy
For all to see,

Upon my skin
Rests dozens
Of hundreds
Of emotion.

My blue wings,
Confetti color paper,
Scribble the sorrow
In Crayola,

And I sign my name
In red,
So red macaw
This piercing beak pen
Out and out and out again,
Writing my name in red.

My dozens, my hundreds,
My span of feather,
Has meant to me
My dozens, my hundreds,
My life of emotion,

So **** your feathers,
Raise your pointed head,
Let scream these colors
And wear them so properly again,
Stand here today
To let them see
This unspoken part of pain.

So glad I can always escape to my dreams
Away from these people and away from these things,
Somewhere safer, unimaginable,
Somewhere where my cup isn't always full
     But at least it's happy.

I can get what I want from waking life,
By exploring my sleeping life,
The only problem is when I wake
I've kind of got a choice to make,
Is it better to live or better to let it pass,
     To sedate myself and live euphorias
     Or wake every day to the heartbreak, turmoil and inhumanities of the waking world.

I guess we'll see.

Little snowshoe hare
Leaving fresh tracks in the snow
Spring is on the way.

Knuckles white, steering the road to nowhere
Decidedly driving
To coffee.
Cruising familiar veins of an old city,
E-brake fishtailing every corner
He smiles.
He smiles and laughs like God herself is watching
Bobbing his head and dancing to his CDs
Alone on these streets.

I would trade it all to again feel this bliss.
Seventeen years old, king of his world,
Filling the void left by mental despair
And a wronged childhood
With women and night drives.
Ignorantly answering all of life's questions
So content with his child philosophies
And childish love,
And childish kisses,
And childish regrets.
Romanticizing the thoughts his dragons gave him,
Turning the scars on his arm into the rungs of a ladder,
Climbing up and past them,
Leaping the fences of mania,
And free falling into his insanities.

He was the king of his world,
Seventeen.

Golem, gatekeeper
He played some riddles for me,
I've sat and pondered for weeks.
Finally am answer came to thought
Through my chaotic mind,
Through wretched things I brought,
He let me in.

The treasure within,
Beyond any concept previous;
My Holy Grail
With wine to sip
And God to feel.
I'm glad I didn't fail.

A lesson in denial
This insanity blanket cover,
(()) mind in constant spiral
Ignoring (()) recover
Y.

Swallowing water,
((deepthroating it rather))
(()) drowning in fishes,
They wither, they splatter,
((They try to climb ladders))
((Dumb fish))
.

Relativity doesn't
Mean to much to (())
Sinister things
And sinister (())
.

(()) swallow coal and ash
And foals and moles,
Vore (()) and gore (())
No placety of safet
Y.

No sleep no eat
No (()) no sea,
Have a seat or two or three
Welcome to insanit
Y.

A spool of yarn,
Two ways to core;
The patient, kind unraveling,
Using all thread to warm;
Or
The knife.
A short path, exposing much
But sacrificing more.