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home is where the heart is
but what if you don't have a home?
what if circumstances out of your control
have forced you to pack up
your belongings in knapsacks
book-bags
and suitcases
where could you kept your heart?
would you nestle it in-between socks that double
as bubble wrap
or in an old mason jar
cleaned of its old bacon grease and
sealed shut from air
i knew a girl once
who was without a home and instead of packing it away
she carried it on her sleeve
and under bridges and squeezed between cloth and a park benches
it got too ***** for her to recognize
and people would nudge up against it in soup lines
and in the winter time it would smell like outdoors and  freezing pines
i would ask her
why not keep in in your backpack
surely it would be much safer there
and she told me
she would never
separate her heart from her body like that
and if she did find a home
she wouldn't keep her heart there either
because houses are temporary and her body would be as permanent
as God would allow it to be
Super, super rough draft.
"Stop thief" I yelled out chasing her,
            she stopped, hugged and kissed me deep-
                                                   consummating her theft.
Lately everything has been speaking to me
it started with the vines along my fence intertwining
I thought of all the paths it took to grow
up to the power line
and all the pieces reaching nothing
and left hanging
dieing
a reflection of the decisions and paths we take
some sending us higher
some leading us astray
never finding our way

The ocean spoke to me next
waving at me so inviting
telling me theres so much more to a surface
another world unexplored worth trying
dangerous and enticing
yet gentle and leaving me weightless
like a new infatuation or the love I'm currently riding

Then I saw the bee
working constantly
carrying the flowers seed
designed to fufill the flowers need
and make sweet honey
perfect for my tea
I realized everything has a purpose
including you and me

Then I saw an old man
at the end of his days
He was a brilliant writer
and would be remembered beyond
his grave
I realized that we are never finished
legends live on and never diminish

Finally I saw the stars
burning bright
millions of them held in the sky
and past them is an infinite space
and I am part of such a small
miraculous place and the world
is my oyster and I am one
of many pearls from the many walks of life
of all these beautiful boys and girls
and the feeling that engulfed me was eternity
Let's Hold Up Our Glasses And Make A Toast

Here's To The Liars,
The Cheaters,
The Hatrers,
And The Women Beaters  

Here's To The Feet Draggers,
Body Baggers,
The Backstabbers,
And The Joint Draggers

Here's To The DUI Kills,
People Tryin To Keep It "Trill",
People Who Don't Reach To Pay The Bill,
And To The People Who Need A Refill

Here's To The Governments Killing Their Own,
Here's To Telemarketers Who Blow Up My Phone,
To The People In My Life Who Keep Breaking Me,
To That One Boy With A Heart Cold As Stone

Here's To The Chemistry Tests,
Being Enternally Upset,
Enternally Recked,
Here's To The People Who Scream In My Face

Here's To All The Pain,
Heres To The Knifes Which Have Cut A Vein,
To All The Guys Who Just Wanna Piece Of ***
Heres To All The People I Dread In My Math Class

As You Can See.. I'm Not Even Holding A Glass
Sorry For The Language, Just Tryin To Think Of Rhymes:)I Tried To Make The Format Look Like A Bottle On A Coaster So You Could See I Wasn't Holding It:)
I wonder if you want me to hate you.
If that was your plan all along.
If you made me feel close to you,
Only to pull the rug out from beneath my feet.

If you told me secrets, you said you’ve never told anyone
So that I would feel special.
If you laughed, when you saw the butterflies explode from my stomach,
Every time you smiled at me or held my hand.

Did you mean it when you called me beautiful?
Or was the blush on my face just another ego booster for you?
When you ran your finger down my cheek
Were you trying to make me weak in the knees?

Was that your plan all along?
To make me weak,
To make me feel like I needed you.
Make me think you needed me too.

Do you look back now and laugh at my foolishness?
My naivety?
At the possible thought that we would ever last
That one day you would love me.

You say you’ve felt pain.
You know I have too.
You said you can’t compare our pains,
But I know you do.

I know you think your pain is worse than mine.
That I will never understand.
But when I tried to help you,
You shut me out.

I think you understand pain,
But you don’t seem to understand compassion.
To you, needing help means you’re weak.
To me, it means you’re strong enough to realize you can’t go through life alone.

That seems to be your problem though.
You can never be alone, be single.
No one remembers a time where you didn’t have a girlfriend.
Inside you believe only a girl can make you happy.

I tried to make you happy.
Not merely as your girlfriend but as your friend.
I still want to be your friend,
But only if you allow me to be.

You can confide in me like you did in the past.
I may not be the person you are in love with,
Who you can trust your heart with.
But I can be the person you can trust with your soul.
Three beginnings.
Three boys.
Three kisses.
Three promises.

Three phone calls.
Three conversations.
Three tears.
Three endings.

*Third time's the charm right?
I wonder if there's a graveyard
For the love that didn't last
A place to bury our hopes and dreams
A tomb of forgotten past

A place where broken promises lay
After they become a lie
A place to bury relationships
After they give up and die

A place we can bury tomorrows
To put the future in its grave
A place to bury our wasted kisses
And all the trust we gave

A place to bury our commitment
That we gave away in vain
A place to bury our heartaches
That caused us so much pain

A place we can bury betrayal
That we too often denied
A place to bury the broken smiles
And the river of tears we've cried

A place to bury all these things
That I've been speaking of
A place to bury our dead desires
A graveyard of broken love
Poetry is dumb, like my thumb in your

Ear — I could have said ‘rear.’

Or my tongue

In your eye,

See, signifying

Blindness. I’m waxing poetic here.

Ink impressions

On paper,

That can’t be touched,

Or felt. Or smelt. And don’t get me started about the taste,

And how long it takes to eat a poem.

So, conclusion, thumb, ear, tongue, eye, eat a poem,

It’s ineffable.
Ive 'nunquam magis sentiuntur solus* is Latin for
                                 I've never felt more alone.

I only learned Latin because
For some reason, I think that if I say things in the root of most languages,
I'll find most of the roots to these feelings.
But... Cogitationes strangulatus.
It's funny. Saying "thoughts stifle" in latin, merely sounds like cognitive strangles.
                                Not that it's any different, really.
It just sounds so much more like what I want it to be.
The English language has a hard time
Catching the depth of things
without sounding like it's trying too hard.
I want to be able to say something once, just once,
and be done with it.
To stop ruminating on you and find peace knowing that when I say
Reliquum aliud nihil est dicere
I don't just mean "there's nothing left to say."
I mean that *I've said everything I needed to say.
'Twas the night before Christmas and all through the hills
The kinfolk were drinkin' and tending their stills

The longjohns were hung by the chimney with care
No stockings were found, just underwear

The children were nestled so high in their bunks
Their quilts made of skins from rabbits and skunks

Granny with her false teeth and gun on her knee
Was waiting for Santa as she sat by the tree

From out of the barn there arose such a noise
We thought it was Grandpa drinkin' with the boys

But what to my wandering eye should appear
It was just cousin Cleatus in mama's brassiere

And then from the rooftop we heard it at last
Like the sound of thunder or a shot gun blast

We have Christmas dinner, it's finally here
Granny kidnapped Santa while we shot his deer

Venison all covered with onions for stew
And even old Santa enjoyed some too

His belly was full when he walked out the door
But he couldn't resist when we offered him more

Well that's the story of our Christmas here
Merry Christmas to all 'til the same time next year
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