Open up your eager eyes
As I drift through your lullabies
sea-sick from your list of lies
Try to find your alibi

Swimming through the sea of hate
drifting on the waves of fate
check the clock, it’s way too late
close my eyes, can’t concentrate

Grasp your hands, they’re frigid cold,
shaking is now uncontrolled,
act as if you’ve not been told
what is about to unfold

Cut the cord and take the fall
thrash against the cold, white wall
who’s the most ignorant of them all?
unplug your ears and hear the call

Sinking deep into the light
Eyes can see but have no sight
faces turned away in fright
are quickly plunged into the night

Take a breath of frigid smoke
fists are clenched, you start to choke,
wish you had listened when they spoke,
but now you take a deadly stroke

Turn away and say adieu
let it go, that was your cue
step on stage and see the view
audience staring back at you

Open up your eager eyes
A lost case with no alibi
sea-sick from your list of lies
it’s time to go.

So say goodbye.

There are moments when I first meet someone and within those first few moments
I picture a future
If those first smiles and small talks are filled with laughter and words on the brink of deep conversation I begin experiencing a type of impatience
The sort that is a mixture of incomprehensible frustration and an invisible longing
This impatience stems from a want of history... humans are often caught up with new things.
New years, new starts, new merchandise
But what do we really cherish ? We cherish when someone has given us memories
We cherish the old house filled with glimpses of childhood
We cherish old keepsakes that remind us of happier times
When nostalgia or regret take hold, we yearn seemingly for the new.
But only seemingly.
What we really want is another history. What we really long for is to build a keepsake from the new with time
So when I first meet someone and foresee a future
Foresee a history within the time to come
I am overcome with a feeling of impatience for when this new reconnaissance becomes a memory
And for when this newfound individual

becomes a friend

You stare

            And stare

                        And stare

Is it you?

            That person

                        Standing there?

That glare

            Those imperfections

                        Stand out

Is it you?

            You ask again

                        With doubt

Can’t be

            That person

                        Standing there

You stare

            And glare

                        …And tear

The mirror

            It only tells

                        Lies

Is it pity

            You see

                        In those eyes?

No more!

            You scream

                              In fright

You can no longer

            Stand this

                        Sight

And in a

            Motion

                        Your hand flies

The mirror

            Shatters

                        And dies

You stare

            And stare

                        And stare

Is it you?

            Those pieces

                        Everywhere?

You’ve shattered

      Your image

            Your reflection

Your truth

            Your mirror

                        Your direction

                      

                        It’s all broken

Most are jealous of a person
who stole
their loved one away
but I envy the Cherry Chapstick in your pocket
that gets to kiss your delicate lips
every few hours of the day

I dream of waking
next to your smile
and dreaming
Beside you
Of exploring
The dustiest corners
Of our memories
and sweeping away
All the sad
Grabbing our
Lost souls
By the hands
And pretending we know
Where to take them

I dream of loving you
till the sunlight
creeps into the crevices
of our eyelids
but does not wake us

I dream of listening
To the silence
while our eyes
whisper sweet thoughts
that linger in our minds
like the scent
of summer’s breath

I dream of holding you
Forever, my love
But forever is a long, long time
And since my
Young mind
Cannot yet grasp infinity
Just love me
Till my heart
Stops

Dedicated to the Revolutions* :

Fall on the ground, dirt on your face,

Keep running, boy, keep running,

Limbs are burning, it’s all part of the chase,

Keep breathing, boy, keep breathing,

Legs are screaming, scrapes on your skin,

Keep going, boy, keep going,

Can’t see the finish line but you’ve gotta win,

Keep sprinting, boy, keep sprinting,

Dirt in your toes, cuts on your feet,

Keep racing, boy, keep racing,

Fall down again, don’t you dare take defeat,

Keep pushing, boy, keep pushing,

Step after step, don’t play their game,

Keep striving, boy, keep striving,

Change of mindset, but you feel the same,

Keep thinking, boy, keep thinking,

Audience watching, some want you to fail,

Keep winning, boy, keep winning,

You’re cut and bruised but you prevail,

Keep hoping, boy, keep hoping,

Finish the race, you’re almost free,

Keep dreaming, boy, keep dreaming,

You’re not a slave, you’ve gotta flee,

Keep chasing, boy, keep chasing,

Limbs still burning, the fire’s alive,

Keep burning, boy, keep burning,

The fire’s spreading, make sure it survives,

Keep living, boy, keep living,

Contagious will, there’s more on your side,

Keep flying, boy, keep flying,

No one’s mocking can injure your pride,

Keep fighting, boy, keep fighting,

Fall on the ground, better get up fast,

Keep climbing, boy, keep climbing,

Those scars will not be your last,

Keep running, boy, keep running,

Fall down seven times, get up eight,

Keep rising, boy, keep rising,

Freedom was always part of your fate,

Keep daring, boy, keep daring,

Finish line’s past, race is won,

Keep dreaming, boy, keep dreaming,

But another race has just begun,

Freedom has no finish line, boy, keep running.

I glimpse the gaps between each finger,

Just waiting to be filled by another’s,

All that’s left to do is linger,

Before we find our “other”.


At times the emptiness consumes

The very hopes we hold,

A single, lonely vision looms,

And we fear what’s to unfold.


And yet, a single being was made,

To fill that empty void,

Harmony of our heart’s serenade,

Too strong to be destroyed


And through the tears, the hurt, the wait,

We grow stronger through the pain,

And when we find that linking fate,

We comprehend what there was to gain.


The gaps are filled, the void is gone,

Two hands intertwined as one,

They walk the path into the dawn,

As they watch the setting sun.

Your mechanical smile
never reaches your eyes
you wear it blankly
for social cues
as if that expression
is a Venetian mask
for Life’s masquerade
it’s the kind of smile
one flashes for photographs
but I know
that kind of smile
you use it
to hold your universe together

Just a little girl in a polka-dot skirt,
With her glass doll under her arm,
Just a little girl filled with too much hurt,
Can a dream shield her from more harm?
A fragile doll for fragile play
In the hands of a fragile girl,
A broken dream to rot away,
Among her bows and curls
She’s reached out towards the stars,
But the doll falls to the ground,
She’s reached out much too far,
A cry out, an empty sound.
She picks up the pieces of her doll,
The broken remnants of a smile,
She could have prevented the fatal fall,
But she failed the fateful trial.
Together again, but no longer decor,
Scars line where it has broken,
Unmendable but whole once more,
A painful memory, her token.
Just a little girl in a polka-dot skirt,
With her glass doll inside her arms,
Just a little girl filled with too much hurt,
And a dream that did its harm.

What she was, was a dreamer
And she was the only one
So as others pulled out umbrellas
All she saw was sun

What she was, was an idealist
And to that she held quite true
So while others saw the hurricane
All she saw was blue

What she was, was a star-gazer
Her mind in some far off place
So while others slept away at night
She was lost in space

What she was, was an escapist
Always ready to flee
So while others docked their ships at bay
She was lost at sea

What she was, was a prisoner
Stuck in her own daydreams
So while others faced reality
She’d tighten her life’s seams

What she was, was a dreamer
And many later asked, “why?”
They thought the jump was suicide
But she thought she could fly

I never knew where I was headed next
and so they said,
I was a wanderer
with aimless movements
and a journey with no destination

and so in search of an ambition

I explored book bindings lining my shelf
lost myself in the words on every page
plunged into the abyss of fiction
traveled someone else’s journey.

I searched religious structures
where people find spiritual refuge
discovered safety in faith
constructed fortresses from miracles.
Divinity became my sanctuary.

I stitched my journey together
with all these books
and numbing naps
pictures of trapped memories
and desperate prayers

until I realized
that while lost in thought, in words, in hope
I was starting to understand
something much greater
than the smaller decisions of every day

I am the inevitable wanderer
and  it is in being lost

that I have found myself