when the fear goes away
it only runs and hides
waiting for the day
to take more manic rides

when the fear comes around
it puts me in the dirt
it really gets me down
it really makes me hurt

when the fear goes away
it always sits and waits
wanting me to stay
in those grey panic states

when the fear comes around
it wraps me in a rope
it only wants me bound
it wants to take my hope

when the fear goes away
it is only a trick
waiting in the grey
to hit me like a brick

when the fear comes around
it grabs me by the throat
it holds me on the ground
it wants to make me choke

Theres a thought,
that enters my mind.
Stoping the hate,
That fills my worlds time
Enter
happiness
Stop
in time
Understanding,
yours and mine
Stop
the time
In a still second pace
Holding time, briefly
To see, it's beautiful face.

To this thought,
That has entered my mind.
That gave me clarity,
For a still second of time.
I thank you,
my soul,
For allowing me to see,
A more loving world,
Where we all
can be.

Time does not stand still,
I know.
If it could,
this is it's second, I would choose.

My wish for this same second-
To freeze in time.
For each, and every soul
To smile, in harmony.

For everbody to feel
The warmth from happiness.
For everyone to see.
If we all work together,
A smile for one second,
We-
Can radiate a new born love.
For ourselves and each other.
All unite as one,
Where-
All are sister's and brother's.

I'm in Love
with a man
whose love
for me
it seems
is wired
to a switch.
And
without warning
something
last night
caused it
once again
to flip.

It used to
lead me
to question,
if he gives
a **** at all-
But now
I just
passively wonder
how I go
about getting
one installed.

For solitude
is  less
intimidating,
than insecurity
and fear.
And laying
awake alone
is better
than company
that's
adjacent
but ultimately
insincere.

Even though
I should leave
I will place
my troubled
questions
in boxes
to forget
about tonight.
Endure the
deep breaths
and eye rolls
and stay
if only out
of sheer
stubbornness,
exhaustion,
or maybe
out of
spite.

There were some books in the hall,
I was told that they were yours,
And the thought crossed my mind
That, were you ever to haunt a thing instead of place,
It would be books-
Your books.
The smell of the old paper
Filled my nose.
It was like walking into a library.
A book of English drama
Lay in the stack-
Heavy and black.
Your name scrawled on the spine,
White against the dark.
It reminded me of you,
So I took it,
Raggedy spine and all.
And now it sits on my shelf,
To reassure me, much the way you did.
Of what I’m not sure,
Perhaps just for a sense of solidarity.
Books will always be there,
Living and breathing,
Even when their owners have gone.

You came to me in a dream,
And showed me your fathers will,
And all I could do was hold you and cry,
Until I noticed the angry grunting noises you made.
Then somehow you just wanted me to laugh,
Instead of me making you.
So you tickled and I giggled,
And we rolled round in the floor.
Its sad to me that even in dreams,
You seem to haunt me even more.