A wicked witch lived in my room
and on me cast a spell
each night on her black evil broom
she took me down to hell

There in it's darkness I would stay
and in it's fires burn
I searched but couldn't find a way
and to the light return  
  
then suddenly a bright star would appear
and all my eyes could see  
that an angel was now living here  
when I saw you next to me

Sometimes, the words don’t come.

The consistent stream of consciousness, ceases.

I am left with nothing to say.

There is a beauty in the broken mind.

Like an abandoned building taken by nature.

It is not that my mind does not work.

It is that it works too fast,

And I am left behind,

Scrabbling in the dust,

Desperately seeking a connection,

In the discarded fragments of thought.

I am fighting a losing battle.

I fear the white flag will soon arise.

And signal the end.

I am alive
yet so small
almost nothing
I am a leaf on a great oak
whose roots reach into the cosmos.

Everybody stop
stop pretending
that everything is normal
as if the climate
hasn’t change

the happy days
are over
there is no hope
for the future

humanity will
survive
our way of life
will soon die

i am not easy to love

i whisper it into the breath i blow across the cup filled with steaming tea

i am not easy to love

i trace the words into the stone at my finger tips as i gaze at the water rushing over the edge of the cliff

i am not easy to love

my mind chants as i open my palm to catch the fallen dice

all this time later, a decade and a half, it was time to write the truth in stone for us both

“i am not easy to love”

Dear death,

I have met life,
He wants me to fight,
But I'm so weak-
So can we meet?