My love for you will
never outgrow the currents
of my weathered heart.

a muse pay their dues
but just not how you think
they can't recover what they spent
with paper and dried ink....

[YOU! Please, finish the thought in the comments below]

But what if what our mind ignores, is in fact,
exactly what our soul adores?
.
.
.
.
Then maybe we’d ask for an encore
instead of a 24/7 drug store.

i want to write, but there's a block in the way. i want to write, but it's making white space - right away.

Sometimes I get mad
because of how sad
you make me
and my family.
I don’t know why
you want us to cry
and hate you
but I promise you
it’s true
you son of a gun
you’re the reason
I run away
and up
because you’re just
a grump
and you’ll never be more than
a lump
on my face
staring back at me
heres the truth
Im squeezing your head
and blowing your brains.
You’re the sick cells and bacteria.
You brought on this hysteria
and nonsense.
So here’s to you
and your cocky
confidence.

the unfamiliar caterpillar
woke to the day
but it was all new
nothing the same way.

why would he stay?
when his body was sore
he woke up on new years
and his fears no longer bore

with his shed of a past life
everything is strife.
but with wings,
every little thing
gleams and feels
right.

right.

right then left then right again.
there you are, my friend.
Happy new year.

-Jac + mac

i can hear a neighbor moan in anguish about her hopelessness, and i too, get wet at the vibrations of those thoughts. i too savor in the salty sweetness of vulnerability and i too get off on the hurt as she hypes and pipes and rattles and shakes and quakes and breaks and slowly gathers herself together again as a puddle down the drain.