Feel like I'm falling somewhere
somewhat transcendental
needing to stop pretending
that what I feel
and see
and live
isn't
real.

I suppose that I wanted to write
something that may
have been something
magically enticing
that could
bring me
back to
you.

But I'm sick of these vicious ravings
tacked up on some kind
of failing travesty
crying out
for an
idea.

So what that I was looking for someone
to cling to in this raging sea
so what that I may have
been the exact opposite
of who and what
she and I
may have
desired.

I don't think that my absolute and unwelcome
need to write whatever comes to mind
is some kind of balm that may cure
whatever sinking, slithering thing
that ails me so, irresolute
and very sullen
but rather
is a mirror
unforgiving.

How this phrase grown out of a horror movie
and one thousand years of Alchemy
has become a byword between us
living as a hashtag and a symbol
in the world we now have here
our only complete interaction
contact in something
souls flung
carelessly
away.

Realizing that I'm not writing this to you or me
but rather all of us that have fought
in our own way to continue
believing in something
greater than ourselves
weak and yet
resilient as
firelight.

I have not the words to break through the walls
that I have built for myself out of
shame and a soul wounded
and so scarred as to
have torn your
happiness from
you.

But I still retain this deep suspicion that
what still lives within us all
is a burning and a knowing
something not for Truth
but for not needing
to feel so
****** lonely
so sickeningly
often.

And so I sit here behind by computer forged from
metal and silicon and greed, typing out love and rage
not really believing that what I say
will ever have any real impact
on the society that I have
come here, truly
to destroy.

So let's take a true gander at this wretch of a world
that we've created for ourselves, hoping
that all of this half-assed search
for real and absolute
freedom from oppression
is more
than
a
pipe-dream.

IF I could have stopped you.
I would have jumped in my car, raced to Hohenwald,  and slung gravel as I sped down your driveway, braked fiercely to stop inches from that guest house,  and fly out  from the inside of my car,  screaming, "Don't do it!  I'm here,   Uncle Brandon!  I love you! We all love you! "
I would have ran up the cedar steps, kicked the door in with my foot,  and yelled as loud as I could until you answered me.
No matter how many times I yell at your headstone, you never answer me.
You were a cowboy, traveling all over the country,  and seeing sights that many would never witness in their lifetime.
You had broken every bone in your body twice
you had a sense of humor
intelligent (two degrees), both in English and Teaching.
You had dreams of being a lawyer and
a college professor.
Only you were a cowboy first.
You loved to ride,  and you loved with a heart bigger than Montana sky.
I wish you had not left.
I miss seeing your dark brown matted hair, peeking from beneath your torn,  curved cowboy hat as you tipped it at me, with a wink,  adding, "See you when the wind changes"
You were a poet.
I think of you when I write,  and part of me still blames myself for not telling anyone about seeing you at my work that night.  You looked awful and I knew something was wrong,  but I didn't say anything--I have no clue why.  
You loved life,  why did you leave?
You had love,  why did you look?
We were your family,  why did you leave?  
I shouldn't be typing this
You are dead.
The world lost a true cowboy.
A man that lived by the sweat of his brow,  and the dirt on his clothes.
I would have stopped you.  I would have grabbed that gun,  and hugged you for the longest time,  and then I would have saddled up your horse and one for me.
Then the four of us would trot along to the highest hill we could find,  and I would watch the sun move across the sky, and tell you that every sunset of every day is always different, so you don't need to miss a single one.

Uncle Brandons last poem
   Im riding. Riding this way is like playing a finely tuned instrument, at times delicate, at other times powerful... The true artist can play with equal dexterity a soft ballad or a crashing march.

And the mist comes a'fallin
in October the month of Harvest,
breathing portents and signs
as we all feel this
some sort of calling.

And the Dark comes a'risin
in October the month of Changing
when Heroes and Heroines
of our home the Earth
find themselves despising.

And Samhain comes a'whisperin
in October the month of Remembering
what we used to be and still are
more than mere flesh and blood
children of the Annw'n glittering.

And the Veil comes a'witherin
in October the month of Delivering
that which those of us bleeding
from wounds deep within
a God's Love continually Transfiguring.

Don't hate someone just because they hate you.

2. ALWAYS be the bigger person.

3. Don't quickly judge someone.

4. You may lose people, but you will gain ones who are better.

5. Everything changes at one point.

6. Try to see opinions from both sides.

7. There are two sides to every story.

8. Some people aren't going to like you, and that's okay.

9. Speak up in class, no one is going to laugh at you.

10. Don't be shy around the person you like, they're just a person as you are.

11. No one is going to die because you failed that one test.

12. School isn't just about grades.

13. Taking one day off of school won't **** you.

14. If you put negitive thoughts out in the universe, chances are, fate won't be on your side.

15. Don't push yourself to the point of a panic attack.

16. You will always love the person you fell in love with, and you need to learn to cope.

17. Just because you're posting about them, it doesn't mean they will message you.

18. Wear a dress to school, who cares if people judge you.

19. Look on the bright side of things in every situation.

20. Always be youself, and don't change for anyone.