I'm not sure if you and I have ever
been apart, long enough to make me
wrest my dark secrets
and revive you from the back of
my manic mind.

You have been my companion
for however long it could have been
and I have tried as much as I can
to run from you.
Away from you.

But sooner or later,
your easy reach into my soul of torment:
you know where to hide, where to look for
the things I thought I lost,
will make me return to you.

And with this silence,
I thee wed.

Let go of the wheel,
Loosen your choke-hold on your life's great plans
Let the world do its own turning,
It's not up to you

You can steer, you can push, but you can't change the wind

You're not God,
Even God's not God

Two choices:

Stare, paralysed,
Frozen in the grip of impotence and insecurity
Deer in headlights,
Top of the world but scared of heights,

Or

Go along with the ride,
Let go of the wheel,
Loosen your choke-hold on your life's great plans
And see where the great world takes you,
Dive deep.

I asked the World, "What can I give?"
The World answered back, "Well, what do you got?"
I said, "Not much."
He said, "That'll do."
So I spit in his face and I gave it to you.

You tipped your  hat and extended your hand,
gracious and grateful and grand.
I said, sweet as honey, "You're my kind of man."
And I jumped in the back of your van.

Half lost, half found we tumbled around
the county the country the sea.
I stuck my head out the window and screamed to the World,
"And you tried to take this from me!"

The World bit his lip as he spit out his dip.
"You'll see what you've done soon enough."
"I ain't scared of nothin'!" I said, shirt unbuttoned,
"besides, I like it rough."

I woke with a start, a missed beat of the heart,
And I rose to look for a spell.
It was dirt and **** and I didn't miss it a bit,
until I noticed that you were long gone.

My heart hurt bad, but my pride hurt worse
and I turned to the World slow and crooned,
"I'll except it this once, but wait a few months,
and know I'll be gone again soon."

The World laughed, "That's true,
but you'll come home again, too."
I said, "Pride sure looks ugly on you."

He took a long sip of wine
and spit out the line:
"Well, loneliness suits you just fine."

Little Miss Muffet
Sat on a tuffet,
Eating her curds and whey.
The little dog laughed,
"Jack, jump over the candlestick."
Along came a spider,
the cat and the fiddle,
who sat down beside her
and frightened Miss Muffet away.

"Hey, ******, ******!"
"Yes sir, yes sir."

Jack be nimble
Who lives down the lane.

Baa, baa, black sheep,
Mama's going to buy you a diamond ring,
and one for the little boy
who lives in Drury Lane.
All the king's horses and all the king's men;
To see such sport,
don't say a word.

"Have you any wool?"
"Do you know the Muffin Man?"
"Three bags full."

And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Jack, be quick,
Mama's going to buy you a looking glass.

One for the master,
Mama's going to buy you a mockingbird.  
One for the dame,
Mama's going to buy you a billy goat.

Jack jumped high
The cow jumped over the moon.
Jack jumped low
And the dish ran away with the spoon.
Jack be nimble,
Mama's going to buy you a cart and bull.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall,
Jack jumped over and burned his toe.
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
And if that horse and cart fall down,
Hush, little baby,
one little Indian boy
couldn't put Humpty together again.

And if that mockingbird won't sing,
ring a ring o' roses,
and if that looking glass gets broke,
you'll still be the sweetest.

Tom, Tom, the piper's son,
did you ever see such a sight in your life,
as three blind mice
stole a pig, and away did run.

And if that billy goat won't pull
a dog named Rover,
see how they run,
they all ran after the farmer's wife,
and Tom was beat.

And if that cart and bull turn over,
and the pig was eat,
and Tom went crying,
Mama's going to buy you
A pocketful of posies.
And if that dog named Rover won't bark
down the street,
One little, two little, three little Indians,
Mama's going to buy you a horse and cart.
Much wants more, and loses all,
little baby in town.
Three blind mice,
who cut off their tails with a carving knife,
see how they run.
We all fall down.

I question the laws which are shared among our youth during these hard times; we have no great war, no question that burns the nations to their knees blaring. We simply have our poverty and power, our endless struggles and our eating disorders.
                We are the nation of winners and runners; we are the hypocrites of our father’s religion. Welcome to America, so jam packed with fast foods and cigarettes that you can hardly taste the reality before it has bombed you down.
                And then there’s you, and you’re sitting there, staring at the screen… laughing at the mother with the black and white face have her daughter slaughter and eat her, and I’m laughing to, trying to hide the little girl inside me screaming.
                “Kiss me,” I’ve had enough broken hearts and sleepless nights to know what it means to have a hand to hold and a body to cling to when the street lights flicker and people ponder about your past.
                Talk to me, open your mouth and share with me the secrets of your mother, tell me what tragic car accident brought you to this position and how far you’d run to hold her hand. Question my beliefs and my relationships. Chose kind words over replaceable concerns, fight for my attention, and question my devotion. I want to watch movies with you, discuss some kind of universe beyond my mind, and our boundaries, hold me close while the lights in the theater are dim we’ll dance behind the stage. The lights will be our stars, predict my future with your soft hands and gentle grin.
                Because you’re a stranger, I can get away with wanting, because you’re new to me, I can fantasize, holding your hand in mine, resting my head on your chest, listening to your heart beat as you sleep.
                Because I’m alone tonight, I can ****** a thought, fish for a chance to be on my own with you. Tell me something; open your mind to the possibilities of me and you.
Of course, all this is wasted on time, and I’ve tried to send you signals, I want to be your friend, I want to talk to you into the late hours, stand in the midnight man’s circle sweating, calling out into the darkness, sharing songs and secrets until the dawn shatters our dream.
Then the bell rings, and you move, get up and leave, go outside to smoke, and my mind goes blank, the thoughts and dreams of the tomorrows that we could have spent together have disappeared, into nonentity. The audacity of my fantasies have brought me nothing, so I move back to questioning the laws which are shared among the youth of these hard times, and I am shaken into a reality of obesity and anorexia, of Christians and Muslims fallen in line with the atheists, I don’t mind, because tomorrow, we’ll meet again and I’ll smile and you’ll nod, and I’ll dream while you giggle.

If i wrote a story, it would be a tragedy. But it would not be about the blood that flows from my legs at night when my mother thinks im sleeping. It would not be about the days wasted crying because no one could hear me when i broke. It would not include the story of two 3 year olds who lost a loving father they barely had enough time to know, or a loving wife who had the light of her life taken by the forces of death. It would not be about the darkness that engulfed my friend, who then became the darkness, and bled away into the shadows to join the ghosts that called so softly to him, he could not resist. It would not be a story of the girl who took over 100 tablets in 3 days because of a boy she loved who told her to do it, and the pressures weighing on her shoulders were pushing her into an early grave. It would not be the tragedy of her survival and the continuous pain and shame that she endures to this day. No. my story would be about the futility of life's arrangement and how the world around us is crumbling to dust and we are doing nothing. It would be about the thousands who are starving and crying who no one seems to give a **** about because they're the 'minorities'. It would be about life's cycle with death, and how so many are ripped from loving families before their time because the universe works in cruel ways, and -if there is a god- he or she is moving chess pieces across their board and watching them crumble. My story would be about the skilled children and poets that no one has heard of because, as everyone knows "its not cool to write poetry" . My tragedy would be about the injustice of law and how those in love are denied being bound to one another because they are of the same ***. It would be about the millions lost to wars that history repeats again and again and again over new, yet just as trivial things. This is not my tragedy. This is everyone's.

I noticed something sad in your eyes lately.
A spark lost,
A dream blown away.

I wish I could tell you
"In the end everything works out,"
but honestly
i cant promise you that
i have no idea what you're going through.
And, No,
I would never force you
to change,
     to share
           something you are not ready to share.

Just like
I would never force you to change who you are.
but something else
has forced you to change.

I can't find it in me to judge you
for the sudden cold shoulder
or the cynical attitude.

Specially,
Since i can tell it's a defence
against whatever it is your hiding.

And No
I cant pretend to understand you
We're all different.

I don't know
       what's in your heart
             or what caused it to be there.

Maybe,
Some day,
You'll be able to tell me and say at the end

"But i'm better now.
      I'm over it.
           I'll be okay.
                   I survived.
                       There's better out there."

And really mean it.

I could not leave you,
Not alone,
So i hope that
you don't mind
if I just stay
by your side
in silence.
No matter
How hard it would be
to keep my thoughts to myself.

Maybe,
You just don't want to be reminded
Of your Deamons
or troubles,

Hey.

I'm there.
I'll make you laugh
If i can
         or distract you.

You know I can always distract you
            with my gooffy run on sentences that make no sence at all.
I want to make you laugh.
I want to make you forget.

Maybe,
The pain,
It's too great
And you feel torn up
            inside.

Maybe,
Its too far deep
And too far out
for my reach to
            fix it
                           with a couple of laughs.

I'll still be there for you.

Isn't that why you call me friend.
And I can't promise you that it'll hurt less.
But at least you won't be hurting alone. *

If I forget
to tell you
      how much you mean
           to me

I'll tell you now.

You were there for me.
And
Maybe
You didn't notice
        I was on the border of tears but you made me laugh and smile.*

Now
I want to return the favor
Because you mean that much to me.
I want to be there for you.


Everyone has their own daemons.
I know,
I've had mine.
And
...perhaps...
Yours are greater than mine...
I can't know
Because I would never fully understand.

I am not you.
There is
  only
        one
            you.

You don't deserve
to be hurt
      the way
            you're hurting
                  right now.

All i can offer you is myself.
And even if I did tell you
           all the right words
I still wouldn't be much
because
          it's
                you.

this is
      your
           story,

Tragic or not.

              You decide.
  
All I hope for is that
You realize I'm not
The only one
        out there
             who would do this
                        for you.

There are so many
          out there that
                you've touched heart with
                        because of the way you are.
                                
           Luv ur invinsible

And if some
*******
broke your heart
And you're only feeling sorry for yourself i'll punch you too.

I'll do anything just to make you smile again.
Perhaps its not much but i'll try and just know i'm here.
And in your heart.
No matter how corny it sounds
it's true
you know it.