I have this world.
This world, that I confide in when my problems are imperishable.

And in this world there is a cave.
A cave were I burrow deep,
notwithstanding the terrors that contain me.

And I
           AM
                  Surrounded
                                           By words.
Words that build up my spirits.
And ease my tension.

Words that seep into my being,
And put a stop to my fears.

So I push on with a steady confidence.

Until my conscience can no longer contain me.

Hear my Scream
As I am taken from this world.
This world I call my own.

Hear my scream
As I fight for my survival.

And feel my PAIN
as I lose the battle.

And longer belong to myself.

I have changed,
My BODY is
no longer part of
        my MIND

It has its own actions.
And chooses to TAKE
all the strength from my soul.

So notice as I fall.
      And finally break.


Because my sacrifice has been made.
What good is life

If I am
living hell.

He looks into my eyes
and I see happiness.

I see walks on the beach
Rooftop views
Talks over coffee
Skinny dips and longboard slips.

I look into his eyes
and I find peace.

Peace in a world full of unanswered questions
Peace every moment we breath the same air
Or I think of his smile,
his dimples lifting up my world.

He looks into my eyes and I see love.
Love in its purest, most unrelenting form.

Love that mends my broken parts
and strengthens in my heart with every beat.

Love that covers me in a warm blanket
and makes me feel content.

Love that makes my toes curl
and my lips part
And brings perfection to my imperfect world.

His love is everything I need and all that I desire.
I can't wait for our tomorrows
of river walks, and philosophical talks.
Road trips and snowboard tricks
Puppy dates and frisbee games
Soft lips and a lingering kiss

And to be in my favorite place in the world.
In his arms with his love wrapping around me in a warm embrace.

I can do so many things in this life.
Good things and Bad things.

But those things hold no meaning.
      Nothing does.

All what matters is me.
My body and its form in this world

And you. Your presence.
Your thoughts, Your actions, and Your meaning.
Me and You.

And all the others.
The others. The millions of people that live each day while dying.
Trying so hard to find themselves with so much out there.

But none of it holds true meaning.

Me and You and The Others.

When so many things are distorted,
We are the only real things out there.

I had an Elephant when I was little.
It was my favorite companion,
And was small in size but large in life.

He cradled my heart in his plush paws,
And held my world apron his back.

It was well worn with Love and Memory,
And wore the weight of my troubles as a skin.

His color was blue, and was just big enough to hold close.


I had an Elephant when I was little.

He was small, yet large.
He held my heart and my world,
And was a silent hero with no pay.

It's skin was worn with memories,
And it was just big enough to hold close.

I had an Elephant when I was little.
Have you seen it?

Because I am lost without it.

Body shaking
Mind creeping
Eyes crossing
Fatigue settling
Awareness diminishing
Will to live fleeting.

She asks me, "What can I get you?"
I respond, "Biggest size you've got- extra everything."
She asks me, "Is that all for you miss?"
I say, "Make that two."

I hand over my life savings eagerly,
thinking I need my fix and I need it now.

My legs shuffle forward
Lacking energy to lift themselves off the ground.

My body is humming with excitement,
Eagerness cutting through my brain,
reminding me to keep my composure until the time is right.

And then I hear it
Three syllables ringing out above the chattering.
Two large items places on the table with my name branding it like a priced possession.

My heart rate peaks.
My eyes look like two saucers about to launch off my face.
A sheen of sweat covers my body.
Saliva fills my mouth,
making my need to indulge elevated above all reason.

My legs regain their composure in a burst of energy
I dart through the crowd,
pushing and growling and hissing at everyone that stands in my way.

Until my hands wrap around the cold circumference.

My frenzied hands stir and stir and then...
Bliss.

The taste of caramel and espresso and sweet life fill my mouth and suddenly I feel a jolt.

Energy traveling down my throat, through my veins.
Jump starting my heart and rewiring my brain.

My eyes open for the first time all day
My lips lift into a smile.

I turn around and see the terrified expressions of the entire store.

I look down and for the first time realize-
My shirt is on backwards
My hair is half curled
One sandal and one tennis shoe adorn my feet.

"Oh well," I think.
Everyone knows not to mess with me before I've had my Caramel Macchiato.

I am fragile.
But I am strong.

You are Alive,
but struggle to stay standing.

You have Spirit,
But only on the days vulnerability and insecurity aren't constant companions.

But my world has changed.
Utterly and Completly.

While yours remains the same.

Too much to Bare

Too much to Carry

Too Long to HOLD


And you just stand there watching.

Stop.
But it doesn’t

Duck.
But it’s too late

Breath.
But it’s over

Show me a story.
Show me a story were anything
and EVERYTHING
is a surprise.

A story were nothing is expected.
Where I can relish and crowd myself with
Envy because of the adventures
I am discovering.

It may not be first-hand,
as I wish.

But it is as close as I can get
to this world I long to thrive in.

And it is as far as I can get,
from the predictable reality everyone lives.

Making Easy Lives seem like Constant Battles.

There are no open spaces,
only confined places.

The ends meet,
but never open.

And every time I rise to conquer
I am pushed back down again.
Slammed into a hidden place inside me,
alone with my thoughts.

*As though falling through a trap door.

The world seems unbalanced.
As I fall.

All truths and all knowledge
Seem to bend and change around me.


I have kept so many secrets

That nothing is spoken.

And nothing is known.


As I fall this great distance,
Knowing I will break.

All I can think is that the world has changed around me,
And will not wait.

As I stop to mend my broken body.

We were talking about me getting a car.
A shiny new piece of metal on wheels
Or a clunk
clunk
clunk
clunker that carries my weight
and take me far
far
far
far
away.

But then life got in the way.
And there was a knock
knock
knock
knock
on the door.
And it was answered.
and words were said.

and I fell to pieces
by the weight
of
those
words.
I used to think that things got better before they got worse.
That dreams were drempt and it took so
so
so
so
long to make it to the bottom
of all bottoms.

That it was a gradual fall that took time,
so many
ticks
of a
clock.

And
beats
of a
heart.

But I seem to just now be learning
how impossible
it is
to stay afloat
in the raging rivers
that constantly beat me down,
called life.

Cuddled under a blanketed canopy,
riddled with holes making a makeshift starlit sky
Is a greasy little man named Poe.

He breathes in the stench of the city
Of the trash cans and alley cat ****.

He hears the life around him.
The beeping of passing cars
The rattle of the subway tearing through the sky
Shouts of the stumbling drunks
The whistle for a taxi
And the melodic laughter of old friends.

And he breathes.
He breathes in the frigid air around him and feels it travel through his body.
It freezes his nose, shakes his lungs
brings goose bumps to his limbs
and drives his body to shutter and shake.

And he thinks.
He thinks of a warm bath
A lit candle
A blanketed duvet
A full stomach
brushed teeth
a soft pillow
and the warm touch of a loved one.

He dreams of better places and better times.
Of a house with a roof
And a morning with a purpose.

These dreams take him to a faraway place.
And camouflage the reality of his life.

These dreams keep his heart beating
His lungs pumping
And the slightest smile to his weathered lips.

In an alley, under a blanket of misfit stars
Lays a man named Poe.

He's a vagabond.
He's a dreamer.
He's a surviver.

I can't breath.

I can't think.

     I am lost.
     I am trapped.

Things are constantly taken from me.

And no one notices that as I walk,

There is a trail of pieces following.
Pieces of myself and my capabilities.

And I retrace my steps,
trying to collect the pieces.

But when I return to my present state,
my companions have left me far behind.

Not willing to wait for a weak follower.

The only thing that relics my past is the
Same heart pumping blood,
The same lungs breathing air.

The skin on my bones has been
weathered down,
scarred,
and painted with memories.

The lashes of my eyes have shed themselves,
The distance to the ground
constantly changing.

My bones have bent and eroded.
My spine has lurched in order to carry my burdens.
And my brain has begun to burst with all I have conveyed.

Although time affects my body; it only makes my soul expand,
excepting the challenge to grow out of this life,
and into the next.

Death has a way of following me.

He sees me in my most vulnerable moments,
                 Watches as life finds a way to cut through me.

And Death Watches

While the life
                          fades
                                      from my being

Closing OUT
both Thoughts and Actions.

And Death Welcomes Me
          as I move toward him,
Becoming familiar with this new place.

So I join Death.

  And except my new form.


Life

         only leaving behind the sound

                                                          of its beating wings.

I will fill these pages with my heart.

They beat with me.

So do not bring these worlds to shame,
for they are closer to me than the blood running through my veins.

This world consumes me.
It devours me and weakens me.

Everything I do and say is seen through thousands of eyes
Every mistake I make adds to the problems of the people around me.

So I fight to stay standing,
I fight to stay strong,
And I fight to be perfect.

Not only do I strive for perfection,
I overlook my pain.
I overlook my happiness.
And I overlook my life.

For you.