Do not ask why you are here,
Treading the waters of a
Planet leaving tears on the
Straight razor held
Firmly to her throat by her
Children.

You are here to dance your life
Out from birth to dust
On the floor between Satan and
Seraph, between kind and
Selfish. Between
Poet and predator.

Know that a light heart, love
For yourself and others; a
Whispered gratitude for the
Smallest of things, is the tallest
Tree in Paradise.
Anger is an axe.

And fear. Fear is a chainsaw.
See the flower; ignore the
Thorns.
Look past the hurtful comment;
More often than not, it was a tickle,
Not a slap.

Be the finger that begins the easing
Of the grip around the razor's
Handle. Form an open hand upon
The face of our blue mother.
Kiss her. Kiss her every sweet
Tear of relief.

No weakness tonight -
I tremble and ache
and doubt has colonized my veins...
But loneliness and heartbreak
will not be my bed mates.
I will sleep with dry eyes,
knees far from my chest.
Tonight I will rest.
Tonight I went on a date
with the moon.
I told her about you.
I started to say that
you shine like she does
but before I finished the thought
I knew I was wrong.
I will not write a line
saying you are my moon.
But for you, I burn,
And when I'm with you
I am full.
And when you're gone
the moon is full.
"There is no time for weakness,"
she tells me,
"Be full."

**, everyone that thirsteth
And hath the price to give,
Come to the stolen waters,
Drink and your soul shall live.

Come to the stolen waters,
And leap the guarded pale,
And pull the flower in season
Before desire shall fail.

It shall not last for ever,
No more than earth and skies;
But he that drinks in season
Shall live before he dies.

June suns, you cannot store them
To warm the winter's cold,
The lad that hopes for heaven
Shall fill his mouth with mold.

They call me a ******
But I ain’t done nothing wrong!
I swear it –
That ain’t me no more
But ya’ll don’t care.
When I was scraping needles
From rusty banana peels
Ya’ll sent for help ‘cuz I needed it.
All red you was with so much love,
For me? Nah for your own selfish
Needs. I got some too you know.

And I guess the worst part is I believed ya’ll cared
And maybe I even fixed me for you,
But when I got out clean
I found a lot of dirt on my “friends”,
My “family”, my blood that wouldn’t bleed
For no one but themselves.

And at Thanksgiving my blood looked at me
Like I was the same old dirt.
And I realized no matter how much I cleaned
Or scrubbed away my dirt and grime
Ya’ll will never see me as anything
But what you wanna see.
‘Cuz ya’ll got ***** windows you ain’t cleaned
Still distorting your view.
And I know I ain’t perfect
But I want ya’ll to see,
I ain’t just the ****** you see in me.

Smoke too many cigarettes;
Turning your lungs black,
Filling your body with poison.
Sick to the stomach.
Thinking too much;
Not thinking enough.
It leaves you feeling
that little bit more,
As you fall to the floor,
Counting steps,
No feeling in my legs.

Knowing that you are
killing yourself.
Too tired to care.

The adrenaline gets you high,
Like a muffled buzzing noise
in your ears
And bleeding in your brain.

They tell me it's expensive suicide,
But I just want to feel alive
Have some substance
to my life.

To be able to feel
the wind in my hair,
And rain
pouring down my face.
Because at night
That's what is keeping me safe .

...
..
Much before the door closed
Can be seen regularly when walking on the road
Though dark, see the mass of trash
But did not hear any noise ever

On the side of the sky touch wall
My constant movement
Though shadow yet trademark cynicism
I can go away even closed eyes

Closed eyes within the dark
Yet unbelievable, but brings a dream
A dream within the dark,
See a diamond crystal
Where only light and light dispersion
From each dimension

Suddenly, in dream
I am in front of the closed door,
See a footprint,
Known voice with tune,
Can hear the illusive song

Now neither there exists any tall wall
Nor any closed door in the mind
...
..

Stories you told, they stuck with me
In my field trips through your memories
I loved to learn the places you'd been.

Places unlike anything I've seen,
Brought to life through storytelling
From France to the Indies; the top of Mount Washington.  

Now today, times change and pass you by
Like cars on the street at night
Yet you never seem to mind.

Your stories that never grow old,
In the aged leather bindings of your soul
Will rest peacefully between you and me.

Time it seems, it learns to dream
When the world keeps on turning
As the pages in your book are running out of ink.

Time it seems, has been kind to me
As I've keep my youth steadily
In kind with the rhyme and the reason
Of your bones.

Time it seems, will catch up to me
Some point before eternity,
In kind, with the rhyme and the reason,
Of your bones.