Real life is on our fingertips.
The flick of a feather.
Real life is on the tips of our tongues.
Words stuck in the middle of your open throat.
Real life is in the air beneath our feet when we run.
But every time we leave the ground,
gravity announces our place
on this earth once more.
Real life floats through our minds.
When that song
begins to play,
and the rhythm
makes our bones become alive again
But the song must come to an end eventually.
Real life
is out there.
Every day.
We're making it.



We're making it.

one step left
one right
no, two left.
one right again.
it's like that book plot
that's all the scribbles
on a white board
instead of that
clear line that goes up to a point,
has it's ******,
and then falls back down
in surrender to a resolution.
but one more step right
then three left
two more right
no.
no.
left.
left again.
one more step right
three this time
oh
wait.
then we're just back at square one.

***** Chais and Saturdays.
The things in life
that used to be so very easy.
So simple.
So sweet.
***** Chais and Saturdays.
Nothing more than that.

Hi.
Hello.
You've been here a while now.
I like it here.

I think it may be time for you to go.
I like it here.

You see,
   I know you like it here
   and you see
   you're always going to be welcome here
   but you see
   it's time for you to go.

You don't see.
       You don't see that you can't kick me out.
       You don't see that you don't quite have a choice.
I do.
   This is my house.
But where's all your stuff?
I don't... I don't... Where's all my stuff?
I didn't think you needed it while I'm here
        so I took the liberty of getting rid of it for you.
        You see,
        you have me and that's all I really need right now.

Well you see,
       it's really time for you to leave now.
       I kind of,
       well,
       I kind of miss my stuff.
Nah, you really don't need it.
       Just you and me against the world.
The door is right there.
        Please leave.
Ah, but you see,
        I've locked the door and taken the key.

count, count, counting
the numbers will hurt
trying to fit into that skirt
thinking all of your body is amounting

each bite and breath
pause to question each piece
but you know the battle will never cease
the best outcome may result in death

everything that you once had will be stripped away
the flesh, bone, and skin
will make room for that clothes pin
until you realize you're in a tailspin
but you thought you were really happy anyway

Pin needles in my head
in my arms.
My feet feel sharp.
My knees won't bend right.
Can't support my own weight.
Try
and stumble.
Try again
and fall.
I am weak with strength
and I am happy with weakness.

I miss the pitter patter
the wake ups
the chit chat
moments of waiting for coffee.
I miss the dread of knowing
this was it
but I was still
I was still in it.
The game I would
make of it
in my head.

The current state of things
just feels
all too familiar.
Thank god for the
music though.
The music brings me
back to
excitement
memories
and life.
Bye E

Hi.
I told you.
I whispered it to you in the night.
But the moon rays
and the chilled wind
swept my words away
before they met your ears.

To be continued.

I wish that I was a dog.
I would do anything to be a dog.
A bird or a cat,
but most especially a dog.
Get fed.
Go sleep.
Good dog.
Have some ******* fun.
Good dog.
Get fed.
Nothing more.
Can always do it.
I wish that I was a dog.

Somewhere through the trees, there's a break.
A break where the light can shine through to light up the earth.
The ground cracks
and crumbles
and becomes green again.
Allowing life to persevere.
Bear steps once,
and bear steps twice.
And eternity can go on
through memories.
Images of the past that last all of a lifetime
in the sun's eyes.
We can only know that that
the greatness will grown
and the bear will keep going.
But the sun knows it all.

Guilt is like drowning in molasses.
Dragging you down slowly but surely.
Trying to get yourself unstuck is sticky business in itself.

If I hold my hand out to you,
   will you take it?

If I walk with you at my back,
   will you follow me?

If I close my eyes to sleep at night,
   will I still see you next to me in the morning?

I did it.


That's all she wrote.




But she didn't understand


it had all


just
begun.

**** my ****** up heart
with it's
****** up love
and ****.

There is somebody who I want you to meet.
Someone.
Someone deep down
From years ago.
I know she is there.
Take her out.
Scratch off the layers of skin,
Of flesh and bone.
I hope you find her.

Scream.
Scream and yell and shout
Until your lungs give out.
Until she has to come out.
She must come back and meet your screams.

You’ll meet her,
One day. I promise.
Because she loves you.
I just know it.

Morning
Fight
Morning
I can face my worst fears
Morning
It doesn't have to be like this forever.
Morning
There are REAL things out there.
.
.
.
Then why did you pull the rug out from under my feet as soon as they swung out from bed onto the floor?

I wish I could give you the world.
I wish I could give you my world and you could give me yours.
I wish I could give you all of the beautiful things.
The magical, amazing
beautiful things.
But all I seem to have left is this shell.
This empty, lonely shell to give.
So all I can ask is
will you please help me
fill it?
Please?

If they can love....

But is she dependent
on her love to him
to secure her own identity?

Blonde.
Bold lips.
Round lines.
Real eyes.
Blonde.