All the silence does not mean
You are alone,
It is the world waiting for you
To listen;
And in the darkness you are
Found by the light
Of your hope.

And in the tears of your
Pain you are born,
There you become stronger
And it creates order.

Pick up your flesh as your spirit
Lifts,
And speak your happiness
As if the tip of your tongue
Was the mountain's peak
Speaking at the sky,
The burden is a caged bird
And only the conscious can set
It free.
And sing to yourself so that
You know you are never alone
In your body.

Know that your crazy is beautiful
Because it makes you YOU,
Wear your skin like
Your cozy blanket and cuddle
In the warmth of yourself.
     You are not broken,
But scattered like the night
With pieces like stars shining,
    Open your pain and yourself
To the wound of the world and heal
Whatever you choose.

150

She died—this was the way she died.
And when her breath was done
Took up her simple wardrobe
And started for the sun.
Her little figure at the gate
The Angels must have spied,
Since I could never find her
Upon the mortal side.

There's a girl with sad eyes
And a cigarette between her lips
She's thinking about old memories
Finding there's more pain than happiness within
So she sits there smoking her cigarette
With sad eyes and a broken heart

What good is a sweater?
With the winds of change blowing away
Unraveling with every progressive step

are you lonely?
a blur through the skylight
black prism
noise
i dream of particles
empty waterways
myself
where has everyone gone?
shoes line the shore
a galloping howl splits the earth
and we rise like mist towards dead suns
are you here?
there is a surface you slip beneath every night
sometimes you catch glimpses of it when you stare into the emptiness beneath your lids
it is where you go to watch yourself die
who are you?*
sisyphus turned inwards
the first body of god
crushed beneath the weight of the ocean

It is a fearful night; a feeble glare
  Streams from the sick moon in the o'erclouded sky;
  The ridgy billows, with a mighty cry,
Rush on the foamy beaches wild and bare;
No bark the madness of the waves will dare;
  The sailors sleep; the winds are loud and high;
  Ah, peerless Laura! for whose love I die,
Who gazes on thy smiles while I despair?
  As thus, in bitterness of heart, I cried,
I turned, and saw my Laura, kind and bright,
  A messenger of gladness, at my side:
To my poor bark she sprang with footstep light,
  And as we furrowed Tago's heaving tide,
I never saw so beautiful a night.