Glory be to the morning
Amen to the rhythm in every breath
This life has gone and made music of my body
Faces come and go all carrying the same song
A hymn of forgiveness,
Sunday ran over into the rest of the week
I still hear gospel choirs on thursday afternoons,
What a world this is, what a life worth living,
I’m not one for prayer but the concept of god intrigues me,
Still asking the questions with answers I know will never come,
Still counting the days since the people I love have passed,
Praise to the children who are searching for their names
Praise to the ones who stared into the abyss
Praise to the wise
Praise to the poets who spoke words as great as myths
The ones who built cathedrals in the empty of their palms
And glory be to the night as she lulls the world to sleep
Awaiting the songs that we shall sing in the morning

This is no way for the story to end,
you were supposed to complete me,
but there are so many pieces missing, my friend,
I know that is not really your fault,
but where should I begin?

Your stories are so funny,
and you look cute as hell,
but the real inferno is raging on inside you,
and that is a thing that I can never change.

You went silent, you fell apart,
you  looked the other away,
now even if I see you,
I wonder if you are there.

You know I am alright,
I stroll through the wreckage of my heart,
I wish to find survivors of your terrorist attack,
but they all just walked away from me, babe.

You see, they know I am crazy,
they know I am ready for another spin
of this wheelchair madness called life,
another cycle gone, I survived.

You hear me talking and I know I am lost,
I found you and the world is gone, I am blind,
I found you and I know I am asking for pain,
and I am glad I can have you again.

Oh, my dearest madness, my anxiety, my horrors, my deepest regrets, how much I have missed you all, my friends. It has been a long, long time, but be ready, I am coming to stay.

There are instances where
I will stop loving you.
If you hurt me
and I don't leave,
then I am blind.
Love may be blind,
but it is not unconditional.

Today,
I found half of a best friend's necklace.
It's a simple chain, a charm that has "Best"
engraved in a piece of green plastic,
a pickle with ogling eyes.
It must have been an inside joke,
a friend I promised never to forget.
I can't remember who.
Just a forgotten memory,
a long lost friend
who I may never
see again.

The man with ember eyes
sets my mind alight
with his touches,
skin tingling with the memory
of his soft hands, touching each pore.
He stepped inside my walls
and melted the ice of my heart
with the burning ember of his eyes.
And as I lay on the soft blue sheets,
he walked out the door
and never came back.
My friends agony and shame
once again wrapped their hands in mine.

What if I were there?
       I'd sit in the dark and hope you left. I won't tell you that you make
        me nervous.
And then what? ;)
      Please don't think I care about you.
Send me a pic.
      I know you don't care about me either.
Oh yeah baby
       Is this what we have come to call intimacy?
U know what I'd do 2 u?
      Emotionless exchanges, just for a moment of pleasure and a lifetime
        of shame.
What r u wearing?
      *I don't want this. I wanted love. This isn't love.