being an optimist
means living with the door open-
waiting for someone to walk in your life
with a bouquet of a thousand balloons,
take you by the hand
and lead you on your next adventure.

being an optimist
means getting back up
after your teeth have been kicked in,
knowing that there had to be a plan
for your new toothless smile
and so-
you smile anyway.

being an optimist
means holding onto hope
when devastation strikes
grasping the ideas that this,
is only temporary-
while your life...
is permanent.

optimism is about
looking up
when the world
wants you to look down-
finding laughter
in the things that make you sad-
and kicking ***
at everything
that walks through your door.

Think
the over thinking
Like
wanting a drink that you're already drinking
Like
wanting to swim when you're already sinking
So easy to think the over thinking
a concoction of daydreams
you hate to be drinking
While
you're already busy believing your sinking
and your foots on solid ground.
So easy to think the over thinking
leaving
your future on the brink of brinking
And
you haven't done a thing cause
you're too busy thinking.
So easy to think the over thinking -
The only reason that your really sinking
in a world that may be okay.

I manipulated hearts today-
Without guilt I was in control
and it felt good.

With my own hands
I cut them,
With my own hands
I felt them,
With my own imagination
I twisted them until they fit just right.
Just like placing stars in
the magic of the night.

I cut out paper hearts today,
Twenty four of them.
It all seemed perfect,
One heart for every hour-
In a day,
That we're apart.

I moved them,
The hearts,
And shaped them-
And spread them apart,
Like time zones between here,
And Australia.

If only there wasn't a time zone bewteen us,
If only there wasn't your destiny and mine-
If somehow these hearts could beat together;
The rhythm to a love song-
But they cannot...

They're paper thin
hoping to win,
The hands of someone
to hold them.

My heads a mess
My thoughts repressed
From a weekend that I've spent with you
Although it is true
Sometimes I feel blue
I just want you to be part of my mess.

I'm having a pitty party
with an exclusive guest list.

Me is bringing the heartbreak,
the ******* that she can't let go of from her past...

Myself is hosting with alcoholic beverages that I is going to ignore in attempt to do the right thing.

It should be...
Interesting.

the trees have abandoned their leaves
standing bare as they wait to be covered with the beautiful shimmer of snow.
maybe we should abandon our negatives-
the things which no longer help us grow.
together we could stand vulnerable while we wait for the shimmer of snow-
oh, it's the bright things that help us glow,
while waiting for shimmer of snow.

It's kinda like finding out that
Romeo and Juliet must die-
It's the realization that
the only way to have snow
is if it's freezing.

I never asked for a "perfect" love-
I asked for an honest one.

I can handle the tragedies,
And the freezing cold;
The unfolding beauty that comes after
is worth it-
but don't ever,
ever tell me
that it's not supposed to be this way.

"it is supposed to be this way..."

Naive to believe
that there's nothing that i can't handle....
Although,
In the scheme of things there's a few things that could break me,
But all my heart ever cries for is honesty-
I can accept that Romeo and Juliet must die...

Snow covered rooftops
rise to meet the sky this morning-
with the same grace that they always do,
But this morning,
There is no difference-
No difference of where the rooftop ends
and the sky begins,
This morning,
they are same muted shade of white...
This morning,
Those rooftops are washing out my dreams
sending them into the night.

I'm checking out,
Check,
Checking out of this moment-
I'm packing my bags of *******,
Carefully crafting excuses,
Folding up regretful parts of my past
and running.

buckle your seat belt
and I'll drive you home
alone
down these safe and winding roads
let the wind from fallen windows
cast aside your fears
As we press down peddles
While slowly swiftly shifting gears
Bodies bumping together
heaves in the road
I'm your Designated driver
so you don't feel so alone
While driving home
drunk
down these safe and winding roads.

No one can find us there...
It's quiet like the morning after a snowfall
Our footprints we've marked with a steady pace can only be seen by us.

It's a path that leads to brighter days,
Happier thoughts,
Laughter and innocence.

Surrounded by hopeful beginnings
And happy-ever-afters that never end.
It's a fairy tale place
Of raw imagination
A place where I can snuggle your heart
And play with your hair
A place where I don't have to hear you
because I can feel you-

It's a safe place where we can meet-
Lets go there,
It's our only safe spot.

i keep stumbling over my heart
i find it wrapped up in my bed sheets-
begging to stay asleep
so it can keep on dreaming.
i find it in the doorway
after a late night bath,
let's do the math
one bubble
two bubbles
a tub full of bubbles should make it happy.

it lays all over the place,
begging for more.
my heart,
it lays in the middle of the kitchen floor
like it's waiting to be quenched-
one cup
two cup
three cups and it shows me the door
and says there's a whole world out there waiting-
waiting for more.

to hell with stereotypes,
I mean,
the phrase
"a rock stuck in a hard place"
never scared me-
until I became
the rock
s t u c k
in the
hard place.

replaying
old phone conversations
hoping that something
in the tone of your voice
would change.
it's been six years
a fist full of heartbreak-
and it still remains the same.
grasping onto hope
in order to cope
while life around me slips away
sticks and stones will always break these bones
but this life I live is for me....

Remember the visions
the ones without clouds breaking
Echoing thankfulness for uninvited shimmers
to the surrendering sun.

maybe not being understood
is the reason we keep trying to understand;
after all,
we can't get back up
if we don't learn how to fall.

the doorway stood in front of me...

for years i observed it's color

solid white wood-

it was bright enough to shine
but pale enough to be forgotten...

a single black doorknob
was it's only fixture-
leaving enough character
that i knew the door must be named-
apprehension.

knock knock
who was there?
i never got an answer.

for years i stood in front of the door
allowing it's curiosity to swallow me,
creating ideas of what might happen
if i should introduce my hand
to the twisting motion
of new beliefs,
opening that door
without a key...
would it be unlocked?

one day it had opened
without a single hand to the ****
without any kind of key
it seemed it only took some patience
and believing of what could be.

the white doors solidity had folded
right before me
my future was molded
and there
waiting on the other side
was a bouquet of flowers
with a hand written note that read:
"welcome, you've finally made it"

I'm a greet-you-and-meet-you professional
I get straight to the point and don't mess around.
I'll ask you how your day is,
If you found everything okay-
And if you prefer paper or plastic.

Like a superhero from a comic strip-
I'm out to make you smile in five minutes
or less.
I have the super power
To turn you away from your favorite alcoholic beverage
Or turn you on-
It all depends if you can pass the test,
the secret code to a top secret nuke shelter-
No pass, no go.

I'm like a greeting card,
Everyday; a new message.
Sometimes I'll hear about the weather,
Other times,
I'll hear intimate details which I really don't care about-
But I'll pretend I do...
Things like-
What you're having for supper,
How much wine your sister likes to drink
Or the fact that you make the best homemade sauce.

I'll get to know you the more I see you,
And like an app on your smart phone,
I'll remind you to come again.

I'll see your kids at their worst-
Moments their grandparents don't get to see.
I'll learn about your financial status,
Your marital status,
Or the fact that you don't have a status at all.

I'll take all of your complaints
And sometimes pass them someone else-
I'll hear all your requests like an overworked DJ
And if you're lucky...
Your wish will be granted.

I am a food slinger,
A cash ringer,
A handle-your-food winner,
I am grocery store cashier.

It's true...
I divide myself
into teeny tiny pieces,
leaving behind
important bits-
that
cause a glitch
with the rhythm
of my heart.

i'll meet you in the middle of my daydreams
where the current meets the tide,
where the bend meets the road...
i'll meet you in the middle where it all collides.
together we can wash away, wash away the sunrise.

a thousand words
still remain
between me
and who I want to be.
a thousand words,
a million different phrases-
color contrasts between
black and white.
extremes written
between "A" and "Z",
sometimes
too big for words.
unwritten,
are the words between who I am
and who I want to be-
the moments that are yet to be awakened.
but
despite the random design of
misplaced thoughts
and dissallusioned fears,
it's between those pages
it happens,
the moment right before
you begin your sentence with a capital
and finish with an exclamation point,
the excitement of thosemoments,
say the the most to me-
the spoke without speaking
the feel without feeling
all of this has got me believing
that all of my dreams are worth dreaming
if I believe in me.

Sad it is;
that sometimes,
The hardest thing you'll ever do-
Is the best thing you had ever done.

You're the king of this place
But your legacies been set on fire,
All the peasants are screaming revolt
As they throw rocks at your glass castle.

You need the right armor-
A shielded protection
From toxic arrows and blood spilling sparrows.
Just hold strong for the white horse to ride
He's on his way to save you...

Meanwhile,
the Dragon breathes fire
Into the realm where all the fairies live
trying desperately to scorch their desire to create all things wonderful.
They won't let him win Dear King-
They'll fight with a vengeance of light and laughter

The kingdom is falling apart,
Be sure to hold tight to your crown-
Or better yet,
Your heart,
Cause Sir King...
It's all you really own
In this unruly kingdom of
"Allalone"

Wish
       Wash
Clash

Wish
       Wash
Clash

I
    Left
A
    Part
Of
       Myself
At
The
    Laundry
         Mat.

I miss you incredibly
And not the kind of miss
where I feel like
I need you right here-
right by my side,
I mean the kind of miss
where I would wake up to you-
early mornings
on my time
every weekend,
while you're still
trying to sleep
asking if I could
come into your arms...
I miss the moment when
you would hold up the blanket
letting me in-
allowing for the electricity of my body
to mesh with yours.
I miss rubbing my fingers
through the scruffiness of your beard-
however uneven the lines,
I miss twirling my fingers around
that one piece of hair-
right above your forehead.
I miss kissing you passionately
making each moment like a science-
hot like blowing glass.
I miss your laughter,
your reassuring nod,
the way your head shook
when I would say
"I'm ready for bed"
...we both know I wasn't ready for bed-
I was ready for you-
all of you;
the smell of you,
the taste of you,
the touch of you.
when I say I miss you,
I don't mean it in a selfish way...
I mean it in a way of misunderstanding.
How can it be
that the universe has agreed
to separate us-
you're there
and I am here,
waiting for you,
waiting for us....
I miss you
in all the ways I love you.

THIS is where Thoreau sat
after he awoke from a night of dreaming,
His smart phone screaming in his ear-
WAKE UP! WAKE UP!
He sat right here after putting on his neoprene boots,
Poring his hot cup of coffee and allowing the dog to do its duty.
He sat right here after listening to the news,
gathering bits of worry and panic-
Thank God he didn't like to work
Or he might be late in traffic.
He sat right here
reading on his half charged nook
hoping that the batteries didn't run out
before he had a chance to get to the good part,
Realizing the irony of electronic books is that even they,
Are putting you on a time limit.
This very spot is where he stood,
Wearing his tee shirt with a large moustache printed across the front,
Replaying songs from his iPOD
"Call me maybe..."
I'm sure the beauty of Walden captured him,
so in effort to share he'd snap pictures for Instagram and hope that enough people "liked" it to send his photo viral, like the howl of the midnight owl who hangs out in his yard.
This is where he sat
after taking his ****** and securing his door from his neighbor
This is where he sat
when he returned home
from a job he didn't even want
This is where he sat
soaking up the heat flashes and solar flares
Watching comets pass by like a common sight
I'm sure that this,
Is where he'd sit-
And this,
Would be his reason to go to the woods.

In the Kingdom of All Alone-
A dynasty is overlooked,
sitting upon her throne;
she ponders
"why does it feel like something's missing?"

A delicate crown she wears,
with jewels from the deepest of seas,
The Queen a visible elegance
who
bares it all on an open sleeve-
wearing her heart until it bleeds
Waiting for the right lover
to give her what she needs-
*"the queen of everything wants something else."

chasing other people's dreams
like a star catcher with a net
she holds onto hope
while deceiving devastation
reaching out her hand
for the next victim of inspiration

baring scars upon her body
like battle wounds of lifetimes before
each cut from failure of another disappointment
leaving her exhausted, bruised and sore.

she's a rescuer-
a fixer upper
new siding on an old slab house
fresh paint on horribly marked walls
fresh breath in a room of stale air.

her heart beats at the ache of another
tears ravage her own cheeks
for the sake of someone else's heartbreak
she's a rescuer
a fixer upper
for another person she will always wake-
while waiting for someone to save her.

running miles
barefoot,
desperation pleading,
feet bleeding,
as i anxiously seek
salvation.

solid stance,
taking a chance
as i hold onto
what i believe in.

it's the difference
of who i thought i was
versus
who i truly am.

thank god
this
runaway
learned
how
to
stand.

I picked you up off the street
The same clothes you'd been wearing for weeks
Sadness disguised where darkness creeps-
Your madness had gotten the best of you.

"I've seen you worse!"
I exclaimed
As I looked into your eyes
You lowered your head and began to weep
Filled with guilt from your urge to get high

We took you back to a safe place
and sat down to eat dinner
I did my best to lift your spirits,
But your heart still rages as a sinner.

"You can do this!"
I barked
As you scarfed down all your food
But you didn't care
all you could do was stare
at a negative attitude.

"Was there ever a great General
who gave up a battle to win the war?"
I began my research quickly
as my heart sank to the floor

I was grasping for inspiration
Hoping and praying the whole way through-
That you would wave your own white flag
And not let this addiction beat you.

Your in a war
Fighting for your life
So hold your anchor
and raise your flag-
Give yourself a chance to fight.

Kind of ironic
it's the symbol that connects us
Two beating hearts, two different lives
And only our dreams left to unite us

Born together by the same mother and father
Fighting their battles as son and daughter
Never would've imagined this is where we'd be
Living as two siblings connected spiritually-
By a symbol.

My eighteenth birthday
A random surprise
Life brought us together to be eternally recognized
As the alpha and omega.

We really didn't know the roads of life
We didn't plan for heartbreak and strife
Life left you desperate gripping drugs and knives
Left me broken hearted as some bodies wife
Never the same
Always a different battle
But together we shake the world
We make men and women rattle-
People believe in us-
Cause they can see the truth
That these battles are our weapons
For encouraging the youth

So let your weary heart be rested
And may you find that life's a journey
One that we are living as symbols who united
We can stand the test of time
and all things that we fighted

The alpha is the beginning
The omega is the end
Together we're united - my brother, my best friend.

through time he travels
leaving the past unraveled
into the layers
between darkness and light
grasping for anything
that may feel right

he's trapped between what was
and what soon will be
he hopes for someone
to open up and see
that no matter how present he may seem
no matter how beautiful a dream
he's a time traveler
and to him,
nothing is how it seems.

I stopped watching TV. There came a point in time, like an eraser on a pencil, that I realized it's all for entertainment. Who we pay to entertain us- some open armed football star, some local news broadcaster with a cheeky smile and fake lips, or maybe we give money for the chance that the boy with a broken heart will actually fall in love after he kisses the fourteenth girl- we are made to believe that only then will he know what love really is. I cut TV out of my life, it began to make me sad, it almost had me convinced that there are more bad people in the world than there are good- it almost made me believe that how other people live is how I'm supposed to, it almost made me crazy to think if I don't cry over the same brainwashing tragedies as anyone else, I'm not human. TV is an invalid form of weak entertainment, put down the remote, turn off the TV and plug yourself in to what's real: the life that's right in front of you.

I think I'm high on Vicodin-
I just left the bathtub,
Embarrassed.

It happened when the hot water ran cold-
Only then did I realize I was happily sitting
in three inches of water,
with the drain down,
waiting for the tub to fill up.

I can hear my wrist watch beating in my head like a constant reminder of you- tick, tick, tick, tick. And  I'm not complaining but it would nice to know if you think of me too. My room is silent again - the kind of silence that you can hear, I'm not sure if its true but in hoping you think of me too. It's the middle of the night and I lay awake writing- I'm not trying to be rude, but am I the only one fighting? Don't get me wrong, I'm not in a hurry, I'd wait five hundred years if Iknew not to worry- that one day- you will or won't, be mine.

Lets begin:
Soft skin-
A moment in,
You're afraid to let go.

shine brightly,
radiate through me-
punch holes through layers of darkness
like stars to a night sky.
surround me with your beauty
the invisible kind-
no wrinkled paper,
no need for time machines-
a glow so wonderful
you already understand what it means...
LOVE.

I've been shown through heartbreak-
What love is...
I've been told that love
was something that took care of me,
physically,
while tearing me apart,
emotionally.

My whole life I've been cast aside-
A mother that didn't raise me,
A father who tried his damnedest-

I've been reminded
by full force pushes to the face,
holidays alone without my family,
Siblings who choose drugs over relationships,
But even still, I learned what love was.

Love isn't a fairy tale,
or a "perfect" family,
Love isn't every holiday
with those you wish to spend it with...

Love
is the strength you have to keep going,
Love
Is the one word that someone speaks to encourage you
Love
Supports all your dreams even if they don't happen
Love
Is indeed patient and of course it's kind-

But love is putting yourself first
when you wanna put the whole world before you-
Love is thankfulness,
Love is forgiving with a reason to understand,
Over and over again...

Love is a four letter word
that contains thirteen letters...
UNCONDITIONAL.
Sometimes,
It's a phrase that gets used too often:
It's a feeling that gets shoved in your face
when you do something wrong-
But these,
Are the wrong ways to use love.

Love should be used every morning on your way out the door,
Love should be reflected when you look in the mirror-
Love is the reminder that dark days will come-
But the days past that are even brighter.

Love, is unconditional.

he said he burned pumpkin candles.

words without expression
escape from mind.
we're lonely behind bars
with the  jam of a traffic scene-
rush hour cars.
exhaustion
from tired lips
broken conversation
with the same repetitive glitch
trying to stay focused but can't keep ground
how many times for this go around?
fall eight times
to stand up ten

breaking into form
by the palm of my hands-
two illusions.
illusions which fall through the cracks
of a grip that wasn't built to last
how many times do you out live the past?

One by one
I pluck them out
Of the rapid-
Boiling water
softening their skin
like salt water to a corpse.
Slippery little suckers
who I stab with my fork
with an excitement to eat them.
Oh, Peking ravioli-
You're delicious!

:)

fast paced breathing
can't keep up with my dreaming-
as long as your around

Let me find creativity in your finger tips,
Press them against my skin
until the inspiration we need
to create a masterpiece
is found.

It's the art of not speaking-
making ways
without the words...
getting lost in the feelings.

it's a world where people talk to much
acting careless over things that matter,
caring too much about things that don't.
but inside there's a world
waiting to be touched.

Let me master your masterpiece-
the creativity that's found in your finger tips.