I see the cup half empty…
You see it half full…
Still how I feel for you…
Is out of my control…
Opposites attract…
You say I over react…
And it has taken its toll…
This is something I cannot enoll…
Maybe it was a mistake…
But I am full of heartache…
I do not want to lose you…
Because you are one of the few…
That has truly stolen my heart…
And now I am torn apart…
I just want to be with you…
So let me know what I can do…
To fix this bump in the road…
My brain is on overload…
Trying to figure out how to fix this…
I feel I am cursed…
But I’m in love with you miss Oberst…
Please forgive me…
I’ll do anything to keep you in my life…
Even apologize on my knees continually.

I feel as if I'm broken

Of bonds I once held true

A basket case of sorrows

Bound in a tomb,

I felt a wilted whisper

Of softness, I cannot bear

A kiss of elegance I fancied

Of whom I do not dare

I think you are less than adequate to handle it-
my womaness, I mean.
Like a lioness, my womaness will bring home
dinner to the family and run ****, trust me.
I am the queen of my concrete jungle
& as I pass by passerby's will bow.
I may be a queen, but there's no need for 'your Highness',
just call me 'your Flyness'.
Because I am fly,
even when you try to deny me and my fellow woman.
We are all meant to be queens by our own means.

But we can't be queens without our kings.
We'll take you to be the co-pilot of our kingdom
if we think that you can handle it.
"What does that mean?" you ask.
Gentlemen, it means that
you can keep your pride in check with checks and balances,
let me do my job while you do yours
& handle me, with love and care.
Respect the boundaries that I have set
for our pride and ride the tide with me.
There will always be trials and triumphs.
But That's just life, baby.

But you can be my king so long as
you can let me be the queen that I am.
My womaness is my greatness in my step
from my thighs to my lips
from my hair to my fingertips,
the wisdom of my intuition and the depth of my soul.
This is the finesse of my womaness.
We are just too fabulous to describe.
Do you think I'm crazy?
Maybe so, but like I said:
something told me you're less than adequate to handle it-

my womaness, that is.

Lost in a forest of confusion.
A lonely travelor has lost his way.
Now he's reached a fork in the road.
Two choices lay before him, but only one decision to make.
It's not the choice of right or wrong or good or bad.
It is of what could be verses what already is.
Once he has chosen, he cannot turn back.
He can only go forward, into the darkness.
But, which path will you choose?

Two years ago your eyes shown
With a kind of light I wish I understood.
Happiness captured in flecks of blue,
Always true, but the truth is not all it should be

I can remember the day I met you
Your shirt didn't match your shoes and I told you so
That night we kissed underneath the moon
You said how did I get to be so lucky?
What I didn't say was I felt lost there.

And always I find that I can pretend to love you
and I can pretend to love someone else too
but every time I feel something new
I push and I fight I scream and I bite
but always I'm stuck here waiting
for my soul with love in her eyes.

Last year your eyes shown
with a kind of light I understood
Happiness hiding the fleeting truth
still flecked with blue, but sadder then they should be
I'm sorry that I felt so empty

And slowly I found that I can't love you
and that was just something that was not fair to you
so I had to let your whole heart go
had to give it to a better home
I can have it back when I'm done waiting
For my soul with love in her eyes

tonight
you

are echoed in
the rhythm of
my solitary footsteps,

mirrored in the hazy glow
of street side lamps in
apathetic windows;

and I wonder if
you’ll ever know that
I see your reflection
in each puddle
of April rain

smothering
these lonely
cobblestone
streets.

Each thoughtful pondering
Sliver like descends in inked threads
Removed from within the whirlpool of my mind
To become a living, breathing substance.

Many just cluttered mumblings
Extracted to clear the thoughts and reasoning’s
Of the eccentric soul

Pencieve, I pity you
For now you bear the clutter
That enables poetic inspiration
To bring forth its fruits

Penceive I thank you
For without such as you
True confusion reigns

It’s in the beeswax candle
that burns
on the kitchen table
next to half empty cups of stale coffee.
It’s in the pure oxygen
that pumps
in and out of her weakened heart.
I can hear it in Judy Garland’s velvet voice
singing her to sleep
in the background.
I feel it in her goodbye grip.
I can see it in her relieved eyes,
her dropped jaw.

You touch my soul,
my heart and my spirit.
When I feel your hands on me
I shiver
No one has ever touched me like that.
You hold me close
I hold my breath
I feel that you are ominpresent.
Your smell, your prescence
is more than I have ever experienced before.
Your touch induces emotions
actions that make me want to stay.
A simple touch.