Sometimes
when you repot a plant,
no matter how healthy the new location
   it curls up into itself and dies.
Even though there's
just as much water and
just as much sunlight
   hell, maybe even more
the plant can't grow anymore.
It's shocked,
it's stressed,
   it's already weak.
A move can do a plant good,
   but sometimes it's too much, too fast.

Except

Sometimes
when you repot a plant
it does just fine.
It hardly takes notice,
   or maybe it thrives
   even more.
The plant grows taller
looks brighter
smells sweeter
stretches its roots deep into the soil
and leans into the warm sun on its leaves.

being
somewhere else
is not the same
as being nowhere
at all

just like

being
loved differently
is not the same
as being loved
less

Happy day Maddie Fay
Life is great Maddie Fay
‘Go away Maddie Fay’
Said no one, ever.

Are you gray, Maddie Fay?
You don’t say, Maddie Fay..
Maybe play, Maddie Fay.
Life is good, Maddie Fay.

Are you gay, Maddie Fay
Like they’d say, Maddie Fay
In old days, Maddie Fay?
Life is good Maddie Fay.

Don’t mistake Maddie Fay
For a blank Maddie Fay
Just a baked Maddie Fay.
Life is good, Maddie Fay.

A tear is shed
For those who are blind to the beauty of this world
Who can only feast on sarcasm, writhing in irony
        *It soon evaporates.
Pictures of a future dressed in ribbons and lace, cast off and burned
Pictures of the future carrying disdainful dystopia, infamous for invalids
Hung to admire in sublime distaste by those that seek knowledge
And see the repetitious antiquities of time that come to pass
        But others care not for plans and the imminent
Those that keep to the light of the gas
And carry the past to the present
Hoping for trends to try again, reliving what they had never lived
Laconic and loquacious in emotions and words
Against the gossip, but paradoxically
Pushing for the creation of their “ritualistic social Golgotha”.
Those who abuse the glory of their munificent, malicious mentality
Pathetically unable to procure authentic happiness
       A tear is shed.
Inside the recesses of the soul where emotions dare not dwell.
       It too evaporates.
Trapped in fear and the “cliched harlequin speech of suicide”
Begging for the masses to cast them out and find each other
       A tear is shed.
Never seen but felt as it evaporates.
Felt by those who envelop themselves inside themselves
Those who plagiarize their sick self-conscious souls
Those who bring about the very misfortune they strive to devour
Those who are effortlessly envied as they exploit their habitual recreations
       By those who wouldn’t dream of falsified euphoria
Those who bastardise and deface the name of creative individualism
As waters of the soul are purged and discarded
       They are felt by those
And are quickly washed away in doubt and regret
Keeping to the light of the gas, dangerous and warm

It be so lightly,
as we close our lips to passion
  and open our lips to lust.
  Advantage be taken of me
  as this reminds me of the memories
  And though love has left this action,
  his touch is still worth anything.
  Even without feeling [behind it]
  I confide in it.
  I'm alive with him.
  His kiss to me is for his own,
  Not for a feeling of which should be known.
  There is nothing now, but cold lips and
  empty words.
  No feeling or vision of love can be heard.
  And all he feels is sensuality,
  This is my sad reality,
  For every touch or stare received,
  He will never again feel love me,
  For his love for me
  Took its leave
  He breathes with sexuality.

Underneath a foreign sky,
we soar, we fly.
The first thing I do
is think of you
when I wake up.

Annabelle,
wash this filth away,
bring the rain.
I'm in no rush to get my
hands ***** again.

Underneath a foreign sky,
we score, we get high.
The first thing I do
is steal from you
when I wake up.

Annabelle,
the sound of your voice
has me wound so tight.
Annabelle,
you stress me out.
Annabelle,
you stretch me
all the way out.

Underneath a foreign sky,
I left my dignity in the dirt
to die.
Pride only gets you hurt, and in
the face of light
I learnt
that I had lost my faith that night.

Annabelle,
you have my blood
and skin under your
fingernails
from the night we set
full sail.

Annabelle,
If you can feel
I'll dig deeper.

Annabelle,
If you're not real
I hope I'm not either.