Snow Globes make me sad.
Such simple,
stationary things,
so easily upset by being
turned round.

There's something rotten
about the way
the cheerful snow and glitter
flurry about
and float effortlessly
into a quiet mound
on the bottom...
still
and forgotten,
until someone takes an interest
to turn their world upside down,
and for a moment,
just a moment,
the Snow Globe is brimming with life
and magic...
and then it settles,
and is forgotten.

Snow Globes make me sad.

Deep in the wonder under,
another strikes rigid.
Fearless hands wander,
waving with an aimless purpose,
exploring the damp walls
which line a clouded tunnel
so many of us experience...

Exploring,
as we so often do,
in our darkest days and
perhaps dare to taste
the salted streams which
casually drown us in our insecurities,
not so disimilar to the sweaty breeze
that travels to wrap us in atrocities
laced with bleeding fantasies...

Deeper and deeper,
seemingly eternal,
straining for the warm caress of sunlight...
yet helpless
and silent
as the dire tragedy
of life settles to the earth.

You are made of stardust. You are an infinite galaxy.
The planets orbit around you. You are their sun. Their life source.
When you die, they die.
You are important.


But you have a devil inside of you.
He wants you to die. He carries your red stained blade.
Temptation.
His fingers are down your throat daily.
You let him in.


But it's time to realize you have an angel inside of you as well.
Begging the devil to stop scratching the surface
Praying for a savior.

You are the savior.
It's time to save yourself.
Time to let the angel free
Let him conquer the devil.

Please, you are worthy.
You need to preserve the galaxy.
Fight for your life; go to war.
But be on the the other side this time.
Fight the darkness, let the light in.
Let yourself free.

a contradiction contracted in
lowest terms are
you.
[it’s metal edges]

your beauty is
of
a
garden
(suspended at mid-
clouds), to enter
and

to say

that in such a
variety of
flowers
there
can not
be
one that
attracts
you

to pick it

to dismantle it
and
to
neglect
the
rest.

[it’s plasticized segments]

you know how to
quickly imprint
yourself
on me

when

you laugh
at times
and
conversely
you weep
and

you are like

those skies
that shake me
to my core

when

they are
blinding
on one hand
and
violently bleak
on the other

so

clearly
fractured
they shake
me pierce
me
pierced
i am
by

you.

[it’s just thinned points]

imagine if
a chameleon
started
to
acquire
each
gradation
of
another
creature
in the form
already
similar
to
it:

where
could
he
ever
escape?

[it’s inconstant semicircles]

(i can not
delineate
you
it is like
sketching
a tidal
wave
nobody
can:

painters

invent them)


[and it’s shoved arches]


i’ll tell you
of
a
woman
her soul
shattered
and

subsequently

imprisoned
splinter by
splinter
in hail
stones

she

fell
and
she felt
herself
crashing
at the same
instant
millions
of times

however

she
never
went
insane.

[it’s torn curves]


(and I know well
how a continuity
interrupted
succeeds
to make
you
fumble
convulsively
but it’s not
enough
for me to
restrain
myself
don’t
ask
me
to)

[it’s petrified vertical axes]

what i see
is
a cross
section of
enclosure
handfuls with
disconcerting
efficiency
consisting
of prisms
and

you know how to decompose

yourself inside
an innocence
delimited
you proceed
by inconstancies
you lacerate
metabolizing
you struggle
silencing
and

i could
only
teach you
one thing:

gray is not
a faded
version
of
black.

We all wish to be happy,
But we bring each other down,
With our harsh words,
And taunting ways.

We all wish for love,
But we break each others hearts,
And we cause each others doubt,
With our unfaithfulness.

We all wish for kindness,
Yet we treat others,
as if they are dirt,
Under our feet.

We all want great things,
But in reality,
We don't do great things,
*Because we are not great people.

in her broken moments
shattered like a dropped glass
she was a catastrophic whirlwind
with makeup streaked down her cheeks
evidence of the war she was loosing
*one battle at a time