He said that he had hurt himself on a wall or that he had fallen.
But there was probably another reason
for the wounded and bandaged shoulder.

With a somewhat abrupt movement,
to bring down from a shelf some
photographs that he wanted to see closely,
the bandage was untied and a little blood ran.

I bandaged the shoulder again, and while bandaging it
I was somewhat slow; because it did not hurt,
and I liked to look at the blood. That
blood was a part of my love.

When he had left, I found in front of the chair,
a ****** rag, from the bandages,
a rag that looked in belonged in garbage;
which I brought up to my lips,
and which I held there for a long time --
the blood of love on my lips.

firefly
glow bright, glow bright
chase out the shadows
of the night
during the day
you hide away
to another
place to stay
firefly glow bright
tonight
for fear of the dark
cast out your light
but lest the sparrow
find you by day
by sunrise you
must run away
firefly
glow bright, glow bright
chase out the shadows
of the night
during the day
you hide away
in another
place you'll stay
firefly, just sparkle
and shine
you'll find others
of your kind
for at night only
they come out, too
hidden by dark
plainly in view
alone by day
they run away
lest the sparrow
come their way
in the night
they come together
and shine bright
now and forever
firefly
glow bright, glow bright
chase out the shadows
of the night
during the day
you hide away
but hold on for better
to come your way

He says, "Today's generation is going to ruin the world"
He says, "Today's music is trash"
He says, "Today's media is brainwashing the children"

And I can't help but wonder
how utterly exhausting it must be to hate that much
With all that darkness clouding your vision,
did you notice how bright the sky was today?

When was the last time you played in the rain?
When was the last time you walked through the woods?
When was the last time you told someone you loved them?
When was the last time you felt happiness? 

He tells me I know nothing about growing up
about hard work
about life

And that may be true
I don't know much,
but I know there is a fine line
between growing up
and giving up

Leave me out in the dark
I'm not your playground of destruction
that you run to during your recess.

chiseling the grass,
sharp as sickles.
thrashing your leather whip
on the dusty ground
with an unerasable frown.

Strangling it around
the rusty bridles
of my broken swingset,
ripping it out from root down
at the twitch of your wrist.
Straddling my worn out see-saw
imbalanced by the wreckage of time
prance around until it
shatters into a million steel slivers,
While your hair brushes the clouds
while you have the first taste of rain
and feel the chill of snowflakes against your skin.

But this playground,
this zealous monument,
was built for
a higher purpose.
It's a place where
streams overflow,
wildflowers grow,
solace to the fireflies afterglow
& poetry readings during
seasons of snow.

If it does not stand for it's purpose,
my trembling hands will flick
a matchstick on the the wick of the trial
to arsonate it's submissiveness
and eat it's dispossessed soul.
It's flames will touch the
cradle of the crescent moon.
And from the ashes

I will rise,
*the Undying Light,
the Untouchable Night.

If I'd a little girl
I would call her Rose
Because it's light
And the world is missing some

I'd tell her to love
And simply be simple
And humble
Because the world needs some

If I had a little girl
I would call her Rose
Tell her to simply be herself
So the world can understand

I'd call her Rose
To flower the beds of our dead,
To bring a simple, kind little thing
In a world missing so much love