Car door slams
Gate opens
Keys jingle
Breath stain on the door window
from my yellow, fluffy friend
rain barely drizzling
foreshadowing the day's intent
listen to music
do some homework
eat
fight
sleep
wake up at 3
write a poem
and feel a little weak.
Wake up the next day
drink your coffee
go
for time is just a number
and fate is yours alone.

Seldom do people say "I'm satisfied"
nothing is ever enough
Because humans created time,
they deal with the burden of "interrupt"
We're never able to finish
We say we were stopped
When really that could have no effect,
but we created clocks.

At a young age they teach us that lightning looks like a geometrical line.
It's shape is a perfect kind of disaster with diagonals defined.
but when we grow up
and we're stuck in the storm
we find it impossible
To measure
A light so worn.

The grieving process is strange:**
step 1. the shock factor: Your heart sinks inward upon itself, because you can't believe what you hear, as if it is a fiction book on a shelf, nothing you read is quite clear.
step 2. Vent to everyone through texts and tears. Set the shameful Facebook status you'll regret in a year.
step 3. Make your "jaded soul" a thing to the naive ear, then feel ashamed of that self critique for it was two severe.
step 4. Cry in the bathtub to Rascal Flatts.
step 5. Talk about it too much.
step 6. Realize it is okay to still care, just be honest.
step 7. Don't let their self pity through drunken visits be misunderstood, they may still care but doesn't mean you should.
step 8. cry some more
step 9. lose yourself
step 10. find yourself


and do it all again.
Because this life is about hope
don't you ever think it's the end.
Doors start where houses stop and lovers always win.

And each day you think it will get better
And each day you rip off a feather
A feather that helped you fly.
Once upon a time I was able to soar
Soar through the darkness and fly
Fly through the haze
but
Now it's pretty foggy
and this high plummets,
Plummets into a blurry daze.
Hurt by words,
the impact was too heavy.
I'm the survivor who made it
but your water broke my levee,
and I can't escape.
My wings don't work anymore.
All my feathers are gone.
I plucked them all
Indirectly, because of you
but, nonetheless, it happened
and I don't know what to do.

Her heart sunk down into her chest
It rolled inward on itself
the pressure became too much
and life became deceiving
a weight, dropped down on a heart
that couldn't stop bleeding
he knew he was in the wrong
and never could explain
he tried to answer all her questions
so she couldn't feel the pain
but none of that worked
and every night he tried
she said the beauty's in the attempt
he said his tears are running dry
emotions are at a standstill
everything feels the same
routine made him hurt
but only she felt the pain
he drank that fifth of ***
because it was all he could feel

They value oddity. In contrast we value uniformity. We criticize and tear people apart as if they don’t fit in. We belittle people’s well being by telling them they aren't the right kind of strange, as if being strange has ever had restrictions. Nonetheless, this place is different, very different and I kind of like it.