She couldn't see how much she meant to him
his breath full of pride, his fear was grim
so who was it that truly win
when their castle caved in under the sand
never to return or be seen again.

Now miles away she's still searching
for another mind just as bewitching
to be her best friend and ever after
still sometimes parts of her wonder
if her ghost ever or still lingers.

Then again deep down she understands
in a different universe, time and space
her life could possibly be like Belle's
a wonderful and contented fairytale
turning every thin girl green and pale.

But here in this universe she knows
only one happiness there is without a cost
one that comes from within, and not with him.

Because we live in a masked society,
it’s ever so acceptable to leave no footprints anywhere we go
or honest words to anyone we meet.

Every masquerade party is a reassurance that indeed,
we are the best versions there could ever be.

But boy have I gone weary…

What’s the point of all these beauty
if I can’t live it to tell my story?

I’d rather leave with endless worry than stay,
watch myself survive yet another day.

I know you are weak my friend,
I am too.

I know you’re broken,
I’ve been there too.

But for now let’s just live.

Have a day.

Shower yourself with care and kindness,
one you’ve been saving for others.

The morrow wouldn’t be so bad, trust me.

You can scream, you can cry or you can write
either way you’d wake up to a better light.

Now smile and keep your head high,
for I’m here with you
we’ll go through even the highest tide.

Together may be we’d understand
the beauty of life
and may be one day
we’d even dance.

don't feel sorry for me.
I am a competent,
satisfied human being.

be sorry for the others
who
fidget
complain

who
constantly
rearrange their
lives
like
furniture.

juggling mates
and
attitudes

their
confusion is
constant

and it will
touch
whoever they
deal with.

beware of them:
one of their
key words is
"love."

and beware those who
only take
instructions from their
God

for they have
failed completely to live their own
lives.

don't feel sorry for me
because I am alone

for even
at the most terrible
moments
humor
is my
companion.

I am a dog walking
backwards

I am a broken
banjo

I am a telephone wire
strung up in
Toledo, Ohio

I am a man
eating a meal
this night
in the month of
September.

put your sympathy
aside.
they say
water held up
Christ:
to come
through
you better be
nearly as
lucky.

If freckles were lovely, and day was night,
And measles were nice and a lie warn’t a lie,
Life would be delight,—
But things couldn’t go right
For in such a sad plight
I wouldn’t be I.

If earth was heaven and now was hence,
And past was present, and false was true,
There might be some sense
But I’d be in suspense
For on such a pretense
You wouldn’t be you.

If fear was plucky, and globes were square,
And dirt was cleanly and tears were glee
Things would seem fair,—
Yet they’d all despair,
For if here was there
We wouldn’t be we.