rule one: everyone lies
rule two: you're not supposed to care
rule three: trust no one

You
are the living breathing expression of a singular moment in the unyielding march of time

You
are unique as the shape of a newly formed crystal emerging from a storm filled cloud, finding its way to a bed of freshly fallen snow

You
are the flow of a river running through canyons, soothing edges from clashing stones, sparkling now and then in the rays of the sun and the sated beams of a harvest moon

You
are the beat of a drum in a warlord's prance and the breath of a flute in a diva's dance

You
are the present, the instant, the essence of the distilled day

You
are nevermore

You
are forevermore

You

There are secrets in the wind
that runs its fingers
through your hair
tossing about a wild ballet
of unruly ripples and waves

It lifts homemade kites
from calloused hands
toward heaven, in leaps and loops
and crazy twirls that swoop the ground,
whispering to the grass
and shouting at the roaring sea

It caresses a warm breeze
in the cool twilight
of a lazy summer's eve
and unleashes fury
in chaotic rage
across the alleys
of midwestern plains

The wind listens
to the first cry of newborn babes
and carries away
the last breath of vanquished men

It fills the sky with unbound wonder
and settles in the leaves of ancient trees
that rock and sway to the rhythm
of its secret splendor

I should be happy my poetry is crap
Depression is food for poets
And I am just not broken enough
To be good

someday i'll
fall asleep
to the sound
of your heartbeat.