The blue song bird
mellifluous singer admired
for her songs that melt
even hearts of rock,
riding the crust
of the adoring wind,
swoop,
            down,
                    down,
                              down
wit­hout a thought
suddenly alights,
heroically tries to sit,
on a high tension power line;
yet another of her
impromptu acts like before,
she labors to convince everyone
in a shrill chirping sound
that dangerously she lives
taking life in her own hands.

East wind, her companion tells
she is mistaken; he tries to push
her away from the lethal wire
on which death awaits with its dark hum

"young and wayward bird
you tell me you learn so quickly
from your mistakes, alright
from now and the moment next
lies an unknown chasm
in a jiffy if you decide to fathom it
no time is left for unlearning what it teaches
and reverse your journey
to the winter land  of darkness
from where no migratory bird has ever come back"
The bird so deaf to wind's words,
still hovers above the wire
the wind in warning hums a sad tune aloud.

a year ago
you told me
that i am
filled with
lightning

(i
finally
believe
you)

When I see you
I tend to smile
Not all day
But for a while
I watch you as you turn around
I remember every single sound
I watch you as you look at me
That’s when I see your beauty
I start to frown when you look away
I guess away is where you’ll stay
I go into a dreamy gaze
In my dream I was in a maze
Having you would be my prize
If I get you is a surprise
Right, left, forward and back
Trying to trace my every track
Boundary here boundary there
Boundaries located everywhere!!!
I touch the side I touch the ground
I try to locate every sound
I hear the birds start to cheep
I only hear one other peep
“Help me, Help me” I hear ahead
“Help me, help me if you can.”
I knew it was her I could only tell
It wasn’t the place nor the smell
It was the sense of my crush in fear
It was a cry only my love can hear
I try my best I sprint ahead
If I was not with you I might as well be dead
I turn the corner and I see
The brightness of her beauty

It’s sad really,
How something so complex can change in a few years.
Twelve becomes four,
Phrases become letters.
An entire global structure,
Now dust under a new foundation.
A conversation takes place in thin air,
Unobstructed by land or sea.
No dictionary tells them how to spell,
No teachers correct their grammar.
Languages torn to pieces,
Becoming harder and harder to piece back together.
A universal language is born,
The Tower of Babel is finished.
Words erased,
Meanings lost,
Books turned to ash.
The only thing left to do,
Is embrace it.
Welcom 2 d fucha,
Njoy wats lft.

I can't wait to see my friends in the fall.
                                                           ­                                           What friends?
You know, Courtney and Kyle and Elizabeth and...
                                                          ­                         They aren't your friends.
Yes they are...
                                                          ­                                          No they aren't.
                                                         ­              They all think you're a ******.
Oh...
                                                   ­                                      Everyone thinks that.
                                                           ­            No one needs a friend like you.
But...
                                                     ­                                                        But what?
                                                           ­                      They all have other, more
                                                                ­              Important friends than you.
...
                                                        ­                    You might as well just break
                                                           ­                    All contact with them now.
                                                            ­                           You know you're only
                                                                ­                            Going to hurt them.
But I don't want to be alone.
                                                          ­                      But you'll always be alone.
                                                          ­                             So why not start now?
                                                            ­               Cause yourself the pain now.
                                                            ­              Then they don't get hurt later.
So, I won't hurt them?
                                                           ­                                                      Exactly.
I guess you're right...
                                                        ­                                    Of course I'm right.
                                                     I'm you.

30 days.
720 hours.
43,200 minutes.
2,592,000 seconds.
I wonder how many more days I can go.
I miss your face, your laughter, your smile.
I'm afraid I won't see you again.
I'm afraid I won't see anyone again.
The days grow shorter and the nights linger longer.
There is only so much destruction a single soul can take, before it
b
r
e
a
k
s
.

The softness of your lips.
                                                                                                                                      The curve of your hips.
                                                                   Losing my grip.

Hair falls down.
                                                                                                                                      World turns round.
                                                                   You'll be found.

Women passing.
                                                                                                                                      Men massing.
                                                                   I'm crashing.

Falling deeper.
                                                                                                                                      Looking for a keeper.
                                                                   Prey to the Reaper.

Time flies.
                                                                                                                                      Everyone dies.
                                                                   Some will cry.
                                                                   Some will lie.
                                                                   Some will fly.