You're hired, start monday,
seize that day,
take it,
it's yours.

Off course, unmanned
no map, nothing planned,
no lookout, no captain,
no treasure.

Passing hours, passing notes,
wandering the sea
on different boats,
living the illusion you are free.

Let the waves carry you
let the tides, the moon and the wind
guide you away from the times you've sinned
only to return when true,
completely torn apart from value,
blue and red, steady,
don't let anyone knead,
wait until they've fled,
when you are ready.

He made a checklist,
raised his fist
and yelled.

As he coloured the boxes,
as he checked off the lines
he'd finished, he diminished
his life to separate stars
and lost the constellation.

Stop the lies,
there's other things to do,
better things to do,
just break the ties,
leave it all
until it safely dies,
leave it all
for someone else.

Compelled to let go
I want you to know
there is no other way
there is no better way.

There's not much honor in dying
even if you're fighting, at least trying,
save your giving
for the living.

I'm at a party. I've been avoiding these things since the start of college, but this time, a lot of my team and new friends were going. They all ordered me to come. It was one of those I-should-just-get-this-over-with moments with a bit of peer pressure and caring-what-others-think-of-you sprinkled on top.

They're drinking. Of course.

A friend offers.
I can't
C'mon.
No really, it'll make me sick.

Sure, it's written in my genes but if I was careful I probably could join in their "fun." A sip wouldn't hurt.

But I won't. Ever. 17 years old and I won't go near the stuff for the rest of my life.

I've watched it steal health from his heart, watched his hands shake and his words slur. The alcoholic's drunk is a state closer to death than many of us will ever see and return.

But even normal drunk is a dark place. I've watched it turn her bitter and angry, a petulant child and tired mother all at the same time.

There is a hollowness to the eyes, an empty well where awareness once rested. A slowness of the tongue, a shallow shouting, temper tempest rising. It is relationships in ruins, it is words at our weakest, vilest and worst. It is the smell lingering on the breath, it makes me want to pass out and cover my nose just to breathe.

Everyone's entitled to do what they want with themselves, I suppose. But if I could wish alcohol away from the world I would. **** your pain, your awareness some other way Have college parties you'll actually remember the next morning.

You're not really you anymore when you're drunk.
And I like you just the way you are.

No matter what I do,
I am just a little girl
Standing alone in a pink party dress
Watching ashes fall through blackened trees
And even if I run as fast as I can, I cannot catch them all
Before their chaotic tumble burns acid scars into the ground
I sprint as fast as I can but soon I am swallowed whole
All except for one white high-heeled shoe
Time and the ashes will mold it to the fitting of this bloodstained world
A forgotten funeral monument
For a girl who had failed to be a bright enough light

I know what you told me
But it was a lie

I will never, never be enough

I've been robbed.

My childhood, my manhood. My self-love.
Taken... taken from me without permission.

A ten-year old boy with an ancient soul.
"Think beyond the physical. Think beyond the physical. It will be over soon. It will be over soon. It always is. It always is..."

The mantra of a screaming, hollow little boy.

A ten-year old with the vocabulary provided by abuse.

You weren't there, and yet... you were,
in your later guilt.

You cried.
"If I had only known!"

Ah, but you did know! You were there. You felt the shake of the bed. The quieted, muffled, screams of your child.

I wanted the shiny blue bike, but you told him no. I'd earned it, didn't I, Mum? For what I'd done - what I'd done for you.
You wanted love, and I wanted you to have it.

A son making a sacrifice for Mum.

"Oh baby there ain't no mountain high enough,
Ain't no valley low enough,
Ain't no river wide enough
To keep me from getting to you..."

Fly - never past devils in big windows, taking bows for a plate of flowers. They will glean your soul from you, as a reaper might - only you're living at the end.

Fly beyond wanton desires, past graves that were planted years before this moment. They hold memories, bodies of things best left forgotten. Bodies don't always have a face.

Exist in a time that knows nothing of itself. It has no perceptions of seconds, despite its blood is littered with wasted hours.

Believe you are sublime. The earth carries you to only the destinations that you own. All is yours, even the cracks in the sidewalks with reeds of grass deeply rooted in them. Cracks don't always mean broken.


Losses of life take the light out of the deep within - eviscerated by our grief. Flawless love and always praying for moments - momemts that have not our name on them, that are not ours and are not our right to touch.


What lies ahead is a road. Forked in many different directions, with vultures circling if you dance down the wrong road. Vultures are ignorant. You choose the road - AND LIVE!


Baby, I'm an American. I cry for those who can't. I cradle hope and hopelessness in the same arm, while they scratch and bite at each other. Will one lose? Yes. Time will scream it from the tabloids.



I Couldn't Love You More crooned the singer. And I can't. You are my skin. My cells. As others pull at you, I hold you up - for life! We're in this together, baby! Trust no devil!