You are everyone and everything that has ever existed.
You are every *******,
every ******,
every murderer,
every psychopath,
every person you have ever done any wrong too,
and every person full of bitter hate.
.....
But you are also every lover,
every hero,
every leader,
every activist,
every philosopher,
and everyone anyone has ever loved.

You are even me.
And you love yourself,
no matter how many cuts are on your arms.
Because I love you.

When I hate something
When I loathe something
When I feel uncomfortable about something
When I am angry with something
I like to be with it
I like to read about it
I like to surround myself with it
I like to plunge into it
So that I may understand why it is that it makes me so
And so that I can be sure it is not for me
If I do anything but that
How can I be sure?

The ocean's powerful dark waves
Spit in the billowing winds
Splash onto our already tearful faces
The ocean is big
We went for a dip
But found ourselves out of land's sight
I feel these pinches
and bites
of the world's stammering mouth
surrounding the waves and
preventing us from resurfacing
shaded by the sails of the drowning boats
the drowning economy
the flailing political states that forgot how to swim
the last breathes of human rights
the Earth is frightened as a child
as the disease of humanity
quickly devours her
and we race her to our own deaths
As if it was a friendly game of Marco Polo
We can see blots of our trivial goals
as we come up for air.
But oxygen doesn't visit us so frequently anymore.
Maybe because we didn't invite him to our dinner party and took him for granted.
And my dreams of being part of the things that happen on a big scale
Are realized.
We are in the center of the whirlpool,
and our toxic boats are pulling us down with them.
No matter how small we are,
what we have built was too big
To avoid.
I tried to climb the trees,
take my loved ones to the tops,
but any attempts to salvage were useless.
The trees were not on our side,
even if we were on theirs.
I would prefer to drown in water
Than this.

I am a yeti
I am the mosquito king
I am a continent
I am a too hot hot tub
I am Batman
I am a tick on a deer
I am the fourth of July
I am short term memory loss
I am a corpse
I am nightmare hot dogs
I am a bad dream
I am a billion kajillion bucks
I am Big Country
I am parachute pants
I am hatred
I am everyone else
But myself.
I am the mountains and trees,
a growl of the wind even.
Where are they, where is everyone?
I'm right here.

He fired cannons until the dogs barked, and then he would shoot one more just in case a chihuahua missed the first 5 shots and still wanted to join in on the chorus. He owned fate and destiny, they did not own him. So much that he could pull me through time and have everything his way. He spoke a language no one in town knew and it made him lonely that no one even tried to understand, but by god I am trying to understand...but it takes time, he is not just from around the corner. I have never felt the tug of mischief and spontaneity so strongly as I did when he pulled my arm. I was in love with another boy, but if I had had my heart on me I would have given it to him that night, and then asked for it back in the morning. I know he would not have known what to do with it for much longer than that, he might misplace it and i don't want that. He doesn't need to feel guilty for anything. I want to tell him thanks for stirring my soup before I boiled over, but I couldn't tell him that without wishing that he would stick around to try a spoonful.

They were fighting here
Living here
Enveloped in a life
That none have since seen
And I work here
I watch as they fight
My nose drips
My eyes water
as I see their bodies
fall to the ground
Their brothers, fathers, best friends die before them.
I wade into the shallows of time
I push against its thick film
But i cannot pass
I can do nothing but watch
as they fight, suffer, and lose.

My heart sits rotting away in a rattan chair
All the love and the people I long to be near
Progressively grow closer to one and other
As I slowly drift out of their lives
I will not longer be the lining in their memories
Not even remembered as part of their lives
Just a humorous picture on the screen
A name in a book dated "2011-2012"

On the other side of the country
my brain grows and cripples from
A lack of blood flow
As my heart begins to give up
And break down
because this distance is too great
and hearts only have so much strength.
But my brain stuffs itself with meaningless facts
and replaces the heart
with stuffings of leftover ******* from the 'elites'
and a horrid instability occurs.

False faces and shattering smiles
Can no longer be redeemed.
I am a new human
as this hole in my chest
is filled with hate and judgment
and my brain cries for happiness
but only receives E=Mc^2.
I am the ugliest human to have ever lived
The only warmth I can seem to find
Is when touching the broken heater
of this insane asylum.

I rejoice,
despite the fact I try my best
and the sky
continues to fall
and the world only gets more bitter.

Father calls to me,
Willing my brain
Handing me a hand-knitted heart
That pumps false hope and paper-mache dreams

"You will not survive, You'll never make it out alive."

Heaps of regret
Are staggered on every path I face.
I may as well die,
No.
I may as well do what i please.
why should I attempt to please those who will never be pleased?
I'm sorry that I am not sorry at all.

This troubled heart,
Now strapped to a surgical table
Connected by tubes to the welcoming hands of my chosen family.
Those who grew me from the dirt,
After i was dropped there out of the womb.
My roots were strong,
But my wings are tattered,
I cannot fly just yet.
But I was thrown from the nest,
And now I am drowning in the fiery depths of hell that were below.

I cannot make this decision.
Not because I cannot make a decision,
But I literally don't have a choice.
And my heart will only continue to die.
And soon enough I will be a carcass.

There was chatter reflecting off the water just like the moon. The Milky Way was swimming with us, wrapped in algae and moss. We had no swimsuits, only spontaneity and laughter. We were far away from trivialities where there was no light pollution, you could see so far outward into everything. We were not looking up, we were looking out at what we are part of. Light, so much light. When our thoughts were finally chilled like iced lemonade, we ran through bushes and flailed in the mud to the car. We drove. Once sitting on our bed, a delicious thought bubbled into reality.
              We discussed it, unanimously deciding on this nights adventure...we'd enjoy the first rays of the morning while seating comfortable at Sacajawea Peak.
              Eager legs kicked and finally slept…too soon later, a buzz of a telephone awoke us, then another. I bounced out of the covers and to the kitchen to prepare a hurried breakfast of peanut butter and fruit roll ups for us, nutrition was priority. Then the clock blinked 3 AM.
Whines squeaked from tired mouths, but excitement prevailed. We packed into our seats and struggled to keep our eyes open, but the drive was bumpy and our sore butts kept us from forgetting the purpose of our trip. We were there to make our lives radical, and you can’t sleep in moments like these. 4 AM screamed at me, we had to hurry. I plowed my way up that mountain as the sun painted the tips of the mountains red. We crossed streams, tripped on rocks, marveled at climate change and the disappearance of the snow we had skied on just a week before. As the incline increased to nearly vertical, we met up with the mountain goats. Their tiny hooves danced on the faces of cliffs and I stood on the trail not more than a meter away. They smiled at us, said good morning, and we went on our way, huffing it up the face. As the sun’s light began to engulf the sky, we watched as the snow capped ridgeline shined pink and gold. A mountain shades us but as we reach the peak, the sun splashes our face, I felt godly. The sun has risen, and so have we. This is why we are alive; this is why we are happy. The valley below us still dozes, and we sit on top a mountain wide-awake. There is no item I could ask for that could ever give me this happiness. I do not climb mountains so that the world can see me, but so I can see the world…and it is so beautiful.

All I do is dream of the future and crave the answers
This is now the future I had once fantasized
I have reached the future
I have seen what has become of my 6 year old brother, now 18
I have seen where the world progressed
I see now the places my choices have taken me
I am living out the life that was once only dreamt about
I am part of the future now
We are the futures of our pasts
And my tongue is damp with the bitter after taste of this pleasure
I have the pencil in my hand
That is connecting the dots of my past
Forming the picture of the ever-coming future
As much as I want to rejoice with my youth
Tell me about all that is to come
But I know it will make no difference if I do or don't.
Nothing would go differently.
If I tell my past what is now,
It will no longer be exciting to experience
What was expected is only as surprising as you pretended it to be.
But now, these discoveries of this now present future
I see

THE OTHER HALF OF THE POEM IS A POEM

now eleven years later
the boy whose graham crackers were high demand at snack time
who sat beside me at the table and pulled giggles from everyones lungs
who drew the drawings of dragons and dinosaurs
With angels above
The boy who was the best things before sliced bread was even invented
who
held all the definitions of importance in his tiny first grader hands
when it came to my search for wholeness.
Had I known that
I would have done everything the same
and nothing differently
and everything all the same
and nothing at all differently
And loved him no less.

To start at the origin...At the ripe and ready age of zero, I learned my first lesson: how to swim. It was a skill that came quickly with the aid of physics and physical movement. My second lesson came moments after, when I realized that I existed and through existing, even some what illegitimately, I had an impact on the world. My learning how to swim brought warm hands to my walls and giggly whispers into my ears, which was a clearly positive response to my personal growth and an awareness of my presence. Even prior to my existence as a zygote, the knowledge of my potential future existence altered the decisions my parents made and the course in which they chose to steer their lives. A person cannot ever be limited or demoralized if there is the understanding that they have, and everyone has, the power to make an impact on a world they are not even existing within yet.
  Now all of this knowledge was contained subconsciously in my head somewhere, but upon its eventual conscious realization I then understood the reason behind the unwavering, childish, disbelieving enthusiasm that I was born with and that applied to everything I had ever and will ever encounter.

our entire existence means absolutely nothing
we are so perfectly trivial
there is nothing i can do in my short short life that is even going to make the slightest difference in the history of our world
and the history of our world means nothing in the universe
we know so much less than will ever have existed
i do not want to die
there is still so much more to learn
we will never know it all
the amount of information in all the human minds that have ever existed
will still amount to nothing
when the amount of things to know
is so large
i do not want to die

The top of my head is open
My scalp lays on the floor beside me
It is open to the world
Every germ and every human
(if they are any different)
But the gods drilled the holes in the tops of my skill
To sip from my moods and my thoughts
as they went on tropical vacations
They cut me open to find me empty
And to fill me again
They shaved out the insides of my skull
So they could sprinkle it onto their yogurt with granola
And they left me to dry
But I awoke with an ache of ruin in the back of my neck
I went about my daily life
I bought groceries
I met with friends
I chatted about politics
But I couldnt help but feel a bit empty
I took Advil to calm the pounding of my head
It could not be avoided
Until the day I looked up
My brain was gone
And the top of my head was left open
And all I had now was the rest of the world filling it in.
I did not need a brain.

She reads five books a day.
And forgets her children's names when they call.
She works.
Hard.
But she plays almost never.
Only clapping games
With special-needs preschoolers.
She will try until she dies
To stay alive,
But she is quiet and she is shy.
Her thoughts get dusty
Pacing repetitively in her head
And never making it out of her lips.
Her mouth is glued shut...
She married a man
Who switched her Chapstick with glue.
But, Mother, let us dance.
Let the rhythm move your aching bones
And grow happier as you grow older
It should not be the other way.

when you come to terms with the fact you are going to die
everything is a lot calmer
mostly you
less anger or angst or fear
just life
i consider myself an anarchist
but there are different types of anarchy
educated and impulsive
i understand
and i observe
and i learn
and i start the fire with breeze on the coals
not with a match in the rain
anarchy is not meant to be ignorant

Raising a child is very relative.
People always want to be a good parent.
I say there is no wrong way to parent.
There sure are morally wrong ways.
But it's more important to think
You can't raise a child well,
But you can be raised well.
You could be the perfect father
And your child could still find ways to get ****** up.
And vice versa.
I know plenty of wonderful people who sprung from hell as a home.
I know plenty of awful people who descended from perfection.
Who a child is, does not depend on the means in which she was raised.
It is solely dependent on how she went about being raised.
You make your own decisions,
You become the person you want to be.
Your parents decide nothing but the experiences you start off with.
I hope to God that I end up with a good hijo
But if I don't I'll do my best to make them better.
But in the end, it's their decision whether they want to be better or not.

"Wander a whole summer if you can. The time will not be taken from the sum of life. Instead of shortening, it will indefinitely lengthen it and make you truly immortal." John Muir

"we change. whether we like it or not."

There is a small stallion in me that kicks at my stomach linings when i remain stationary too long. Not physically stationary, but stationary in life. He isn't named because I have yet to fully understand him enough, but I know that his endurance has pushed me far beyond my limits and therefore destroyed them.
By taming that stallion, I am allowing myself to remain wild. I am using my understanding of myself to take the reins and pursue what needs pursuing.
It has allowed me to rise from my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage not unscathed but changed and always for the better.

I am a messy person. I find it difficult to keep blank pages clean and the colors inside the lines. I spill myself all too often into the things I create and the people I meet. I have lost myself more than a few times when looking for trivialities. But despite my lack of organization, I have a moral compass that does not flutter in the wind, pointing due north and I have a loyalty to myself and to the bettering of the world that is unwavering.I am using my understanding of myself to take the reins and pursue what needs pursuing.
It has allowed me to rise from my greatest wrecks and the most deadly of wreckage not unscathed but changed and always for the better.


I could go and invent a pizza pouch that allows your pizza slice to be easy access and even more portable and I would probably make millions, but what good would that do than just encourage people's laziness and immediate pleasures?

The only way to avoid criticism is to be nothing, do nothing, change nothing, and even then people will still call you boring. Let the criticism come, the hatred too, it means you're doing something.

I've found that the key to success in any endeavor is making the conscious decision to make it happen, whatever it is and no matter what may happen to you along the way. It is that and then to be stubborn about it, but flexible with your methods.


I was once dared to lick the ski lift pole in a -20 degree blizzard. Anyone who has been to elementary school is fully aware of the seriousness behind a dare. A dare is no joke, though we may laugh at it. A dare is a binding agreement with the gods and also the demons that you will fulfill your destiny and display your loyalty to your friends. Even more of a contract is the double-dog dare.
Dare's taught me the true meaning of going the whole way, of not backing out, of committing.
Through habitual practice, dares established a long-term mentality for me. As I moved away from home and was on my own, there were not always others to dare me to do things I was hesitant to do. I began daring myself and growing more courageous with each one. They got bigger and more serious as I grew older. From "I dare you to pick your nose" to "I dare you to climb that mountain" to "I dare you to follow your dreams"
Because of dares, I can go all the way with the little things and now I know how to go all the ******* way with what actually matters.
I dare you to never give up.




I entered with hesitancy, being so accustomed to the confidence that comes with spontaneity, I did not know how not to overthink my decision to leave home when given months to ponder it. I entered as a sheep, but I left a lion.

I've got intelligence and ambition that I trust in myself. It has gotten me this far, and I know it's not tired yet.  

I’ve been lonesome with the wandering blues many times, because I’ve got little birds in my chest playing the prettiest songs in hopes I’ll let them out to fly.

The only regrets I have are not becoming friends with more people.

From night to white, winter's near.
Why do all the stars keep falling here?

Flames are burning the clouds to ashes

A hole, a perfect circle of light
was torn into the patchwork of the sky
and sewn back up by the burnt bits of thread
That were made from the sun's fiery goodbye

capture-able  
no camera
no words even

Help prevent wildfires
The sky's the exception.

You are my darling,
You are my sweetheart.
You're my love and your father's just jealous.
I can swoon and I can flatter you.
You're the reason the moon hides behind shadows,
Cause it sees you and gets self-concious about it's figure.
When you summit those mountains, you're the reason those fish swim upstream.
You pick those strings better than your brother picks his nose,
And boy does he do it well.
Rug makers idolize you because of how you weave those words.
The ebbing of the ocean is in constant competition with how you swim the tides.
And with all of your multitalented-genius
I wouldn't be surprised if you could calculate the coordinates of the sun while sprinting a marathon But I know you'd just find that
You are sunshine.
Watch out for those boys, chica, cause the line for you is longer than Gamestop's.
If you never understand how well you recited your ABC's that 1st day of elementary school,
I just hope you know...
You make the bees jealous, honey.

What if this was all bones bones bones
Rocks were nothing but bones bones bones
What if I was all bones bones bones
What if we were just bones bones bones
When I go, leave no trace but our bones bones bones
Oh home is where I'd like to lay my bones bones bones
What if cemeteries were more than just bones stones bones
What if cemeteries were just forests

I feel the turn of the earth
the earth that has me
this massive creature beneath me
Breathing
Running
Crying for help
I borrow her love
As she creates mine
I am made of borrowed thoughts
She has lent me her heart
She has shared it with all of humanity
But they take it as if it was all theirs
There is no kindness
She comes unfiltered
Opens her arms
They call her home
Yet they give her nothing in return for her undying love
She is a lost lover
Bruised and abused by unworthy
She has the moon at her side
He pities her
He feels her pain
He sees all the darkness that she possesses
As she hides it behind the suns mask
There is a story
Where eyes open
Can I wake you up?

We go about each day, telling ourselves the words our mothers fed us as children, “You can be anything you want, you can reach heights unseen and untouched by any other being.” But we speak them in monotone, we see them without processing.  I played along like every other and chanted them with a smile but with no idea of the actual meaning and interpretation. I did not make those words mine, they were merely an idea; an unexplained, unrealized idea. But my eyes have opened and light has shown upon it and the truth to it. I can do anything and there is not necessity for schooling or to go to an elite college. I can do the things I love and with passion because I want to! The flaming passion that burns in my eyes spreads upon those who hear my words and my excitement.  I am seeing the world’s situation in large and each act and each rule and law as changeable. Revolutions and riots have brought change and the rules we live by and each thing we see as so common can be altered and flipped upon it’s buttox if only one sees the possibility, wants it, and speaks the benefits. We are not a perfect society. We are not better than the past. We are not lesser than the future. We are what we have and we have to live and deal with it, but that does not mean to be content with out society nor does it mean to over appreciate it. We can change and we will change. No one is content, and we must realize we cannot ignore the change or ignore the history being made. Do not sit in your homes huddled away and watch the news as if you are not part of it. Step out your door and watch as we create history and we decide what is the best that we can do to be able to do what we love to do as humans. We are so often restricted by society and it’s beliefs on what is acceptable and what is available. As a child we grow up and we see our options as firemen, policemen, doctors, or teachers and then as we grow up we keep our brains in this mindset that those are our options and then we get into highschool and start realizing we know of nothing, we don’t know our options, we don’t know what we want to do with ourselves. Then we say we have time, we say we can make that decision later and then we cruise through our schooling not focussing on anything and then keeping in our head the 5 options of life and occupations that were given to us when we were children. We need to not just tell our children that they can do anything and then give them a few options, they deserve to be shown throughout their whole lives what it means to do the things you love and are passionate about and not having to be pushed into a category of work or life that they “kind of like”  and think that’s what passion is because they haven’t experienced enough to realize what their possibilities are. Life is so much more than what we have built it to be as society. Life is not going to school till youre 30 and then doing work and having a family and going on a few vacations and then growing old with a person you hardly care to genuinely ask how they’re doing. We belong to this earth and I swear to God, I’m going to embrace this earth and frolic upon it’s soil until the day I die because I want to experience it all and I do not want to live in the confines of what society has confined itself to. The things you find social acceptable are your own barriers and the limits you are making for yourself, so do not bash another for going against the grain but applaud them and follow behind them and create your own path as they did. I’m done doing what makes me most financially stable or what the upperclass would respect me most for. It’s not like I did before but gosh ****, I’m not going to busy myself with other peoples fear of change and the unknown.

The stars were startled awake by the thundering snores of the suns slumber,
and brought to being by the night.
They twinkled and bickered
They were ailed with the task of holding the sky up
while the suns eyes were set to rest.

Put on your father's hat
Full of stickers
About nuclear war.
It Will Be The Death of Us
Send it in a package
as Thomas waits
He listens to Tom Waits
But only the old stuff,
the better stuff...
Waits for reality
To be as good as mine.
Snapshots of his jealousy flash from the screen,
I pity him and his envy.
Ridge lines could **** me.
I never want to sleep again.
I have slept enough, eleven days
Only dreaming for sixteen years
Now I could die.
But I died before,
This time it is only fun and I am only happy.

Grab a hand
There are many searching for yours
reach down,
your hand will find nothing in the clouds
pull them
the sky is blue because of you
you yearn
but asked for it to be easy
but help
and you will find it reciprocated
see them
so much potential if only they had you
bring happiness
theirs will bring yours
smile wide
there's no reason for half-assing it
dont worry
not all rewards are immediate and when they are hard
cry loud
what did i say about half-assing
but hope
because it's all just a wheel and you will be back on top
dont fret
you'll be just fine

I just sit here
Enjoying the worst day of my life
Wishing my death could live
Where do I want to live
In the city or the mountains
Just as long as I have love and I am very happy
This is a choice
A choice I can't make
With my head
Cause it stopped working when I pressed play
Oh where is this voice
To tell me what to do
Oh, my life just seems so **** bare
Since I left
I am just too fragile for this
Oh just as long as you are swimming there with me
I just want to be happy

To be in love with you…I can’t imagine. You and I are separate nebulas; we are our own universes even…yet we are part of the same picture. You are made up of the most mysterious of stars. I cannot travel to you; I’m not evolved enough. Give me one thousand years and I will meet you on your own horizon. I am uncountable suns, yet you are infinity. I want to be the same. I want your infinity to count me. To join me. So that we may be one, and grow. Someday, I will not be standing so small watching as you expand, your light blinding me. One million years from this thoughtless time, you will have become me, and I you.

I sometimes wish I was Sylvia Plath
But she hated her life and only wanted good
I am a lucky duck even without flight
I am the happiest person I have ever met
But that is the saddest thing to know

the three of us sat with music playing and the tires rolling and
unplanned adventures in front of us on the road.
With a few bucks in the bank and a bunch of ideas floating in our skulls,
the aches and pains to escape the mundane were finally being treated.
My best buddies and I spoke only out of true stoke and excitement over our lives.
Laughter carried the weight in all of our conversations.
Each of our words were hardly coherent because they were beaten through
giggles, coughs, and mumbles.
Nothing was to be taken seriously and
nothing was to be judged.
We were free to mumble whatever words we pleased, so long as we laughed.
The car muffled its own contribution to our discussions about cats, rebellion, pounding Mountain Dew, and jumping off of ****.
Those things are our only cure from monotony,
so we spoke of them often.
But we also shared thoughts on intellect, society, passion, and time;
however, we took them out of their limitations.
To be friends means to leave the judgment to the strangers,
and to help each other grow.
We followed these guidelines as an unspoken constitution.
As friends, we understand that there is much more to a person than can be expressed in words,
so words take the short end and we do not care much for their maintenance.

I don't really care much
For those who don't dare much
Who wait and wait and wait for their mommy to make bank
Your parents bought you a swimming pool
That's so nice
That's so cool
But the people who had me hopin'
Are the ones whose minds seem open
But whose open doors were merely murals painted on closed minds
Those are people I cannot stand and there are so many of them so many kinds
With so much potential and even more judgement
Or maybe with money and very little thought
I'm happy with my mountain streams
My 25 cent socks
And jumping off of rocks
I'm happy here
Where the sky is big and clear.
And I can tell you my stories
I can spill my heart on this polluted ground
But you'll need some more keys
To unlock all the doors
Inside of little big ol' me.
Millions of rooms in my head,
Filled with everything plus room for a bed.
Room 52, ***** and giggles
Room 103, the Dutchy
Room 3004, a room just for you and more
But there are parts of me
You think you know
While only 7 months of me you carry in your pockets
And will you see all 16 years and lives before? No.
Step down from your pedestal
There's more than your two eyes can perceive
You're not as great as you seem
These facts show, I believe,
There's nothing more right than for me to leave.

I've got a sticky note taped onto the back of my computer from ages ago when someone put the ideas I'd been trying to express for months into words. It's titled in all caps--
WHAT JIM SAID
Like obviously with the power of perspective you can achieve happiness in any situation, but I would much rather achieve a state of happiness that just flows, rather than forcing myself to be positive. and like you, i think thats much easier to obtain in the right environment with the right people.

I've never met a Jim. But I still concur with him.

I forget what I look like on a daily basis...
I forget what I sound like even more often...
and I don't think I'll ever know what I seem like.

A sweep of a paintbrush
Is the only thing that could capture this angelic devil of a place
All that could create the crumble of this sidewalk,
Or the tickle of this wind and these stabs of sleet.
Or the dashing of the shadows by this Spring's happy rays.

All of this wonder and this common rarity
In this baby of a town
That cries to be heard and loved
For the mind that sits inside it
Wanting to be known for more than the just it's beauty of a school.
It sits as a daisy in a field of sunflowers,
Unnoticed until the ladybugs that fly from it are seen
Fluttering to great heights
Showering wonder on all the witnesses.

But what of the aphids,
The townies,
Those that call this home?
Do they get no credit
For building a life,
A family,
A dream,
Within this cozy corner of the country?

They see this place as home,
Looking at it with comfort and nostalgia.
It is their point B.
Their finishing line.
Or maybe even their starting point,
But still a place of birth.
Through their eyes,
These cracked roads and looming trees
Are glazed in memories
Of hopscotch and snowmen.
But no matter to whom, there is love and there is hate.

There are those who wish to flee this beautifully forsaken prison.
There are those who wish they had never been elsewhere.
To everyone though, there is beauty in it some place.

Deadly dead bodies
Bring widows into this world
Loneliness to loveliness
Birthing them.
Nirvana plays
as nirvana comes
I dreamt once that Christianity was right,
But I never converted
God says don't advertise your love
God says do the dishes
God says that he's the only one
But I exist too.
Why does he fall so often?
Such a klutz.

I love.
You want . 

But life knows
How to make the world happen.

The future is just people dying.

When hearts live,
Words are happy and eyes are like better days.

Are you ever going to do things?
Maybe something real?
Make a home and a life to care for,
To carry away the time.

The body must feel
And the mind must think.

I trust that your lives are better on the inside,
The best are long and the worst are longer.

A place changes with years,
I hope...

A head is more than a brain.
It makes children into birds.
The mind is the past, a time traveler.
That kind of sad person that dreams things so human
Only to stay alive in a room, in need of a story.

I realize that you thought you'd exist,
But you're dying years ago.
You wanted the earth's history to lie beneath the sky
And touch your feet until you were old,
But it flew upwards,
I'm sorry.
You cannot have that, but you can have what you make for yourself.