i denied being depressed
because i thought maybe telling myself that
would decrease the chances of it being true
but i now realize that denying your feelings for something
only makes them stronger
and because of this
i love you more
i hate the world around me
the environment i once thought was so beautiful
has now painted a monstrous image in my head
of what truly lies in this place
full of danger and lies and people who say they care about you
but actually don't
i have abandoned the memories
that linger in my mind
but no longer have meaning
i just need a new place to start everything over
i have come to the conclusion
that i have reached my breaking point

*a

Zeroland.

There are hills here where pavement once set
Long before all things sort of crashed and burned away all that once was inside of here

And out I travel to and fro picking up nails and finding a hammer to help rebuild a time long gone

So here I am here inside a promise that never came to be finding apple blossoms stuffed inside these smallest cracks here within a pavement that now slowly comes to a melt down
As I exhale me.

jo.

I love my early morning hikes
in the Georgian-woods,
where alone
I glide along,
my feet carrying me
through the zephyr-mists,
upward on the granite stairway
into the disappearing stars
& onto the bald-summit.

Happily,
I stand exposed
on another sacred-peak,
one of God's gifts
for wayward hikers,
smiling.

Brilliant blue, swimming in an ocean black;
pinprick of light barely visible from distant planets,
the sweet, living dirt on which all our hopes,
dreams, plans, history, and future reside.
Fragile, but strong, older than time,
our home.
Swinging in wide ellipse around brilliant flame,
small yet full to brim,
our Earth.
When the men of the future finally bid goodbye
to this, our green oasis in the darkness,
will they shed tears?
Will they remember the violent history? the blood
and tainted soil? the tears of mothers?
the schemes of politicians?
the passing quandaries that envelop us now,
but will be meaningless then?
Will they cry to leave our home behind?

Small, little planet circling a sun,
solar system in the arms of a spiral,
one of millions in a galaxy that is
one of hundreds in a cluster that is
one of billions in a universe-
we are so small,
and it is beautiful to be so.
Product of billions of years of chance-
expansion from a single point, energy
bringing destruction and creation in
symbiotic, chaotic harmony.

In a few more billion years, our home will be gone,
and the universe will not be changed greatly
by the absence.
What will become of the Humans,
that precocious species that once inhabited
a starspeck, and thought they were
the center of the cosmos?
Will we have survived our self-destructive tendency
to **** our fellow man?
Will we be standing in gleaming vessels,
watching the sun expand and
consume our Mother whole?
Will we cry to see our old home burn?

I own one spoon
one knife
one fork
one bowl
and one plate
but I own two mugs
in hopes we'll fall in love over a cup of coffee.