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Secret Garden Jan 2013
The pain slowly rises up from the toenails of swollen feet, begging to thrive, to not be released... Pulling you in, like an over needy friend, drowning remorse sounds hollow and coarse. 
A master of reality design, she finally began to analyze, who was this boy and what did he want, why was it him that got what he got? 
An advocate for the weak, something only some can understand, she never had any idea that he was nothing like most men... He was purely a design, a fragment of her mind, a poorly put together story that rhymed, so alone is where she cries, trying again to analyze. 
She finds a poem to recite 
A voice if she might
Fight this new found stage fright
So many times, they stood at the end of the stage, silently filling her heart with rage. 

She ran
She ran as far away from home as she could with that man,
With packs too heavy and without an open hand, together they ran. 
Him from his choices, her from those voices 
They kept screaming she would fail. 

She wanted to run far enough away that by the time she was home they wouldn't know what to say.. But she came home and had to stay.

Reanalyze the pain. 

See again what she had left in shame. 

The pain. 

Please God be with her, please help her pray, please come down to her, and take her pain away

He held her down and blindfolded her, whispered in her ear that she was flying, and then blew wind in her hair as she was crying, calling it Ocean Air. Salty. 

How dare me.
Secret Garden Jul 2012
I opened this card, to write to you, a birthday wish or two
but my pen touched the paper, and there wasn't anything I could do...
I felt the need to try and tell you,
about all of the things you do...
about your rolls at home,
or the streets you've roamed,
or the way you don't have the slightest clue
(although soon I am reminded, indeed you actually do...)
I wanted you to know,
I admire your mundane, unobtrusive, unforgiving glow
I admire your leadership, in an unbiased, newborn, kind of way.
I tell you Thanks, for more, than when you hold open the door...
Which you would probably do... Without anyone asking you...

I used to write stories about what everyone was doing wrong...
Then I would talk to you and write a poem,
and it was more like a textbook, written with life...
and in life, the reality of death, and all that death meant.

there was a calming sensation that I finally kept...

from all that I know, and from all that I've seen,
       which is my only tangible reality...
I have come to the conclusion that you are a man from their dreams...

The Gods, and the Goddesses, that mythologically once sat around a table and hand picked each perfect little atom into what would one day become the likes, of you and me.

Inspiring beyond comprehension the only thing I can do is let the pen lend...a few words... or phrases... heavier than mentioned my heart races with tension when I try and envision that dimension and remember that lesson, about doing good with the time we're given...

I stop, and I smile. And I say thank you again, because you're the most refreshing of men. You are touching lives, and I want you to know, I am blessed, and speechless, and full of pride to stand here telling you Happy Birthday, tonight.

If ever I gave someone the feeling you give me,  my only hope is that their pen becomes just as heavy, and  they write about what it meant to them, to have a new place, for a life long friend.
Secret Garden May 2012
The way the thunder rolls through every nerve in every tip of every finger
as she types words she did not know she had inside her,
she is confronted with a passion that looks similar to desire
she is tempted, and she plays with fire

With a firecness not yet like the lion
she allows fears to conspire
and while she is longing for attention
he put himself in detention
refusing to break through
allowing fears to consume
she didn't have even the slightest clue....

I found happiness inside of me
the way life had designed me
I am a pawn and I have yet to be played
forget me not, in my fits of rage
for I see life different but the same..

Thank God he forced me to become more awake
in a way I had never found more mistakes
but an innocence that whispered it would all be okay...
for in the depth of emotion do we find the words we call potions

Froget me not, you Charming Prince,
forget me not, in a blissful kiss,
forgive me my dear,
and forget your fears
forget your worries and be with me,

You saw yourself writing dreams,
while my plans began looking a little naive
and as I find me,
you are forced to find you,
but I pray that we find each other soon

I am me, and you are you, and if we end up together,
its through the storms that we have weathered
Secret Garden May 2012
Not too sure which card to play,
Not too sure which words to say,
Finding it harder every day,
To be the person who asks you to stay,
     Make the pain fade,
              Make the song play,
                                 Make this sadness go away,
                                         Just tell me after everything
                                              *It will all be okay...
Secret Garden May 2012
Let your soul bleed
let the words that are your everything
be heard by a thousand enemies
put down change for them to read
explain how you are not so different,
or better yet,
explain to them how different you are

Let your soul bleed
let every piece of every microscope thing
be felt inside the core of every humans being...

Let the words pour through you,
like never before
let the fire from your most passionate desires
be heard by a thousand minds you have inspired

Let your soul bleed....

Let your heart scream....

Let your self have everything you need...


Because a writer, never dies..
through their fingertips they have an instant copyright
and with love as the only motive they accept life is passing by
but if they write their words in blood they live an eternal life
because she replied how forever was at least worth a try..

You will never die....

Your soul is something that can always stay alive...

You may loose your body, but not your essence of life...


No one ever lied. No one ever said it would be easy ..
they all said it would be hard, and whispered confusing
but they gave you the tools, that some day you would use
now its your job to tighten any screws coming loose

**Happiness is a way of choose...
Secret Garden May 2012
There was once an angel with one broken wing,
that had a vision of regrowth at the end of a dream,
woke up one morning and began fixing things

finished mending her method of flight,
again had the freedom to fly through the sky,
however fast, however high, however wrong, however right

And one day she was going about,
saw a spark of light amidst a very dark cloud,
she spoke to him and asked his name,
with no reply he only slowly grinned,
with the flash of a smile,
she was consumed by him

She stayed in captivity for a while unseen,
until again she awoke from a lucid dream,
determined to change everything
insisted she knew exactly how to break free

So she fought and she fought to knock the walls down,
but eventually found she had an easy way out,
slipped right though that crack and swore she'd never look back

As she flew she began to grow cold,
and it seemed she had forgotten where it was she had to go,
she flew in circles hoping no one would know,
but soon enough her secret was exposed

She asked for a hug,
to be reminded of love,
the way the maker had intended...
Wanting more she took out a loan
on a garden she was determined to grow

As the flowers bloomed she was again consumed
by the power of the spark,
as light shined through, her keeper knew,
she was ready again for what only he could do

She was surprised by the spark, his eyes pure blue,
his voice of reason so fresh, so new,
a past more broken, held together with glue
than the one she was fighting,
with a blindfold and noose

She made it through a great depression,
or so her mind had made her think,
but she was still young, and so very naive
this was a plan she could never foresee
So she went along, with the bigger plan,
learning how to let things happen,
discovering life, in a completely new light
making sense of the unimagined

She spent a day in silence,
tuning the entire atmosphere out,
and when she waited for the voice to come,
she was able to hear the sound

A voice so calm and steady,
familiar sweet and heavy,
telling her she's ready,
for the test she would be getting

It told her to stop, and slow it all down,
look at things a little differently now,
eliminate hate, and jealousy,
replace it with positivity

That loving yourself is the key to it all,
the only way to be sure you can handle the fall,
the right way to get through it even if you have to crawl,
the best way to ensure, the engines wont stall

As she began to understand this,
she no longer ignored pain,
she accepted these things for just what they were,
and started living again

And on a little journey,
she took with his spark today,
she found that he had found himself,
along the broken way

Again she was consumed,
but in a positive sort of way,
never again would she look
at any spark the same

The angel and that spark,
sit now on a different level,
holding hands tight like handles,
passion burning like candles,
caught up in the blaze
            her plans went up in shambles

And maybe its the shambles,
that builds the stories end,
of a love that will never be lost,
and the finding of a friend

Forgive me while I sit here,
without too much to say,
but I find I become speechless,
when our souls begin to play

Push me, pull me, love me, hold me.
Secret Garden May 2012
I thought it was a disease,
The way it had it's hold on me
But I was the one who was sick you see
I wanted to run, this time only physically
I let my mind rest, and suddenly it hit me

I was the rock kissing the dirt on the ground
Waiting to be forgotten or kicked around
So I asked for help and help was found

No longer waiting to be picked from the crowd
Standing my ground on the other side of town
I took a step back and came back wondering how

How did I waste, so many nights?
Looking for the answer, I was trying to hide
Reminding myself, I had to remember it right

When I asked for an angel, she sent me a few,
Gave me the tools, and a new book or two
Told me to read, and to write it all down,
Told me not to worry about the weight of the crown

She some how managed to show me,
I couldn't even stay in count
And the greatest gift I'd ever gotten,
Was learning how to slow it all down
Listening to the rhythm
A simple monotonous beat
A rather tedious feat
If you do ask me...

... I realized how much potential, waited in those keys...

The lessons were simple,
But simply never stated
But even in the afterlife,
She is trying to relay it

How thankful I am for the gift of her hand
Patiently teaching patience to me

So sing with me, just one more song,
The way no body's ever heard before...
Sing with me, and they'll come along,
Leaving worries not anywhere close to my door

Sing to me, until I fall asleep,
About those wooden ships, and lucid dreams
Sing to me, until I fall asleep, til my ears bleed and I begin to weep
Sing to me, until I no longer breathe and we make them see
living in song is all we can be

So sing that simple song to me..
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