You may find this funny but I once had a dream about pay toilets. I walked up, handed my root clod to God, the door came open and then closed behind me. I sat down and began to read the graffiti; "Em all" said one and "Maelstrom chronicles" another, "Introspect the bottomless key" and "Will this all come up again tomorrow?" This last was written on the handle which when depressed revealed another little sign which said "NO!"

"Thank you God" I said as I left the stall. "Your welcome Buckwheat" he replied. The words echoed.

As I was waking from this dream I found myself wondering whether it was a reminiscent image of the midnight diaper change or the real thing. Maybe I'll be more like the trees tomorrow and live on sunlight I pondered. Just then I heard my mother's kind voice. "Time to wake up" she said. "I'm already awake" I said as I got out of bed.

In the quiet of night, we hear your still voice speak.
After thousand of years you are still in Control here.
Still I shall not fear the unknown, for you are in control.
Everyone else fails each other only you are trustworthy.
We may not do it on purpose , failing each others still...
We are flawed with emotions , sometimes fear causes us to fail.
Still the one whom spoke everything into reality still..
Has everything in order, for you are perfect you are true.
No other can protect us like you, for you know us all so well.
So you succeed where everyone else has failed us your people.

Words
So many words and languages
Often confuses more than clarifies
I pull words from deep within
And am left
        Inadequate
        Voiceless
        Wordless
Sil­ence reigns
Meaning is lost
As words pour forth
        Then,
In an instant
A moment is perfectly captured
And I feel I finally know myself
       Then,
Silence reigns
Meaning is lost
As words pour forth
          And I am lost

Kelly Rose
October 6, 2015

Yesterday, I got a burn.

Embers rushed through my throat,
And into my lungs,
My pain cracked a smile.

Oh, how joyful it was to be twisted,
As parts of me turn into ash,
Then burn into my heart.
A mark,
That would stay,
Forever.

How terrible is this,
and how awful to admit;
that drinking and thinking while smoking
is the only way I find bliss.