Its miraculous.
Its completely beautiful.
The love he gives me is absolutely timeless.
He gives me pieces of his heart to complete mine.
This love that  is delicate and exquisite.
Our boundless love and devotion is immortal.
A burning flame of eternal love.

So I sat here writing a letter,
trying to recall events like the weather,
why red and blue have been fighting forever,
the kid in the newspaper with some new fever,
or that house that set itself on fire.

I wrote off the lines and on the back of the page
about a mother and father who abandoned their children,
a street that went up in a riot,
the telephone poles and the trees,
pipelines and the sewers, and their eventual decay.

I wrote, “Will you marry me,” one thousand times
Then I wrote, “I don't love you anymore,” one thousand and one.

I sat here
and I wrote a book that wasn't long enough
it couldn't explain the things I wanted to say.
An AK-47 sent through the mail.
The tower that fell with no plane.
Flower sales and drive-by’s,
what really happened to JFK?
Why wasn't it **** Cheney?

But I barely wrote half of what I could think.
A declaration of war, like it's a game.

I sat here, alone with my 90 degree angles
every night is a race to the bottom of the glass.
A prisoner to my own mind
which I cannot escape.

Poetry is a magic spell.
A ritual of words
With emotions for the tools.
I cast the ideals of what I want to be
And watch them unfold before me.

You see, what we write for ourselves
We create in reality.
When we write about our sorrows,
Do they not seem to increase?

When we pine over loss,
Does that loss never leave?
What do you want
In your reality?

Swaddle me in paperwork
To cover up the cracks
Evaluate my worthiness
To calculate my tax
Privatise the atmosphere
And charge me by the breath
Bind me into servitude
Employ me half to death
See I'm put to pasture
When I'm unfit for the herd
Then reduce me to a metaphor
And sell me by the word

**

Simplicity is not stupidity.
Simplicity seems to be wisdom
that is not so well understood.

A weapon of the imagination;
the largest enemy of ignorance.

Therefore, it must be stopped.