Sometimes I have no words to explain anything to anyone especially me.

Sometimes every word disappears
I can see them marching off a suicidal cliff everyone dropping to its death.

Sometimes this world carries a silence so thick the words just scramble away like little kids in a field of rye with nobody to protect them.

There is a place inside beyond the scribbling dilly dally dance of my pen that the heart just gets too tired to try to ride.

No more words sliding through the rye.

I have been defeated in a thick, steep silence

my legs dragging logs in unknown territory.

I have been smashed through walls trying to deem it worthy.

I hung on with less than a thread for a right expression.

My fingers clutching air
my eyes burrowed in
my thoughts scraped clean
my words all dead
but why do I come back here?

I must love this game.

This battle to try and save the heart from dying in the quicksand of a silence so great that only tears would hit the pages if no words were there to build me.

When I was 12,
I remember staring down from a hundred foot ledge.

I stood right at the edge for 3 hours looking down.

Filled with things I couldn't speak of all I could think about was jumping.

I don't know why I didn't.

Everything black burned inside
like the devil stormed your castle and killed everyone
but left you alive to suffer.

Now I understand.

There is a conspiracy against the light.

We must hold on with everything we got.

We are the ones,
spirit will use to help heal the darkness.


There is more going on than meets the eye.

Use your light.

Don't jump.

I believe in you.
We have legions of angels on our side.

Ask them for help.
They will come.
Use your heart.
Heaven lives inside it.

Following the fracture, I closed two eyes and opened up my 3rd one.

You fashioned me to the oceans elastic patience.

Aching for the masters haven I bled out wind to sing for you.

Following the fracture I dipped down below the surface to surrender to the undertow of Faith.

My one wish returned in the aftermath of break.

Risen up, You enhanced me.
Swelling blooms upon every hill verified what I always knew.

How light infiltrates beneath the skin once you forgive the mangled wounds.

Infiltrate me again.
I have never tasted a sweeter scent than You.

Her smile is a book written by Glade
  showered by May Sun
investigating deep Spring Green
my eyes rolled over in
glimmering glow,

butterflies hovered in trance
even they didn't know what to do.

She peeled back the cover
  and the first line dipped into
every place you ached to be
  all at once.

She was Fire in every Maple
deciding to run through our eyes
and permanently scald us when the wind took it all away.

Her departure twisted nights into
Dracula's twin blades
and our favorite book,   erased.

How long did it take for you to recover?

It took me forever and a day.

I can tell somebody beat
him badly as a kid.

They used nasty words like
"I wish you were never born."

They put razors in his skin, rubbed his face in gasoline, lit a match.

His name is Greg.

He wears glasses.

Smart. I can tell.

He has a way about him.

Shy. Nervous. Timid.

Modest eyes.

He hasn't let his hurt turn him into them. He wears his badge of scars like a silent hero.

His voice is a soft spoken child, every time I see him I wanna tell him;

Whatever they did to you I am sorry.
You deserve the highest love.

I want to find him a soft girl with the valley wind in her arms so she can take him down to the place where Lions rest.

Somebody aims a crossbow in your face but you do not flinch now that death's secrets has revealed itself to you.

Dead of night is a hangman creaking from a ceiling, stealing words.

His swaying motion distracting flow into stagnation.

Blizzard at the window capturing a white wizard of song.

Nothing can shut him up lately.
He mocks you through glass.
You feel with your fist,
lick the jagged crimson from every knuckle.


Slow to die,

this night freeze
stake in the bones
aching to flame
Nile flow into Red.

The ghostly arrival
speaks your name
crisp as the friend
you thought left you,

  so cold the entire country of hell
blindly shivered on your floor.

When you wake up:
Darkness is a rope around
your neck telling you
it ******* hates you
as it scars your breath
with memory.

If my eyes could write the sea
  would it be stilled after the cannonball roar of your
shattering  arctic breeze?

If my hands could tame your waves
with a light that craves your name
  will you show me how to sing
    the burdens off of me?

If my burn reflects the sun
   and seagulls cry my name
would you listen to my pleas
as the entire world will swallow me?

If my eyes could write the sea
and the storm roll over me
would she still remember
  how her hand once set us free?

If my silence could ever speak
  and reflect what I truly mean
will mercy hold a warm room
           meant  for me?

When the sunset cannot be caged
  and visions bloom through sea
will the promise of your return
set every person free?

When darkness stains my tears
and crew is lost at sea
as the Captain navigates in doubt:
  
Do you promise to visit me?

If my eyes could write the sea
  and my love return your breeze
would you remember to sail
the holy mystic three?

When the Captain is completely beat and the madness
of the waves  retreat-

The Angels of the sea will appear
to mend his broken feet.