I wonder if you're asleep,
Laying in your bed.
I wonder if you're like me,
With words trapped in your head.

When the dawn comes,
Will I need some time to grieve?
When the questions run,
Will you finally be free?

But, there is a technicality,
In the form of my love for you.
My tendency to cling tightly,
To a very specific few.

My love, there is a thing called trust,
I gave mine to you fully.
But in your awful lust,
I fear you might take it and leave.

And there are some things I need
Some things I need to fly
But tonight it's only me
Me, myself, and I

"Write with your eyes like painters, with your ears like musicians, with your feet like dancers. You are the truth sayer with quill and torch. Write with your tongues of fire. Don't let the pen banish you from yourself."

Here is my broken heart
Here is my shattered life
Here are all my faults and failures
As a woman a mother and wife
All the promises I've broken
All the hateful things I've said
All the life I left unspoken
Wasting my breath upon the dead

Here is my sweat and sacrifice
Here is my blood and pain
My hollow effort to pay some price
Worry wasted for no gain
All the lies I cling to
All the truth I threw away
All the darker thoughts I bring you
Waste my steps and run astray

Here’s the sum of my existence
Here’s the hardest part to learn
This wretched pride and persistence
Stokes a bonfire set to burn
All I am at the end of me
All damage done that I could do
All that’s left is the love that sets me free
Everything comes from you
TL Boehm 10/06/2013

When you kneel to pray, forget me not. When you are in times of joy, forget me not. When you are sad and feeling lonely, forget me not. When you are seeking answers, forget me not. When you have lost all hope, forget me not. In all things remember me, for I am with you always, so please forget me not.

People scream for help but it falls on deaf ears. The rulers adorn themselves in finery but abhor the unwashed masses. In fortified cities that gleam of white marble and steel, they make plans and dictate what they think life should be, while outside the high walls and vaulted towers, the reality of life is ignored. Who cares about high ideals when you have nothing to eat. What are principled arguments when a baby is sick and dying? The people speak but they will not hear, the poor complain but they will not see. So why won't they listen, who can really say?