One night
A snail said
To a cocoon
Work without a wage
Is wasting the life,,,

We are unaware
Of the end
Of things
What could we say
At the beginning

Don't worry
Be happy
for tomorrow

I have no dew
But tears
Of the rain

I dress like a school boy. Plaid collars clashed with sweaters and stiff jeans that are skin tight. I paint stars on my cheeks because i am one with the sky, one with the world above me, a part of this universe. I wear crooked eyeliner to match the fierceness in my eyes.  But nothing i do seems to mix. I am the human truth, that part of reality the world does not want you to see. I am not plain or irregular, i am blank. My hair is blue but it does not stand out against the greys and the black. My bedroom sheets are red stained with white and the walls are sticky like rain. They close in around the empty spaces, threatening the oxygen filling the room. Its not always this hard to breathe, but when it is I feel alone. I feel every breath escape my body and form clouds in the sky that turn into snow. The snow falls into piles around the ground, where people shiver and catch colds. It is made into snowmen, and dressed better than the people dress themselves.
Then they melt. They melt like the fire in your eyes on a stormy night. They melt like the lives who were never meant to be lived and they melt like the tears trickling down your chin. They melt like the silence left after you're dead and gone, and when there's nothing left to say. Then the water runs in your veins and pools in your heart. It stains my hands and knees, and all the places I pray at night, hoping someone out there will hear me. And as I stand up and dust off my skin tight jeans and salty skin, I push off my scratchy sweater that i have hated to wear and look at myself in the mirror. I ask "What am i? Who am I? And why the hell am I here?" And the answer is never to be found, like the stars in your eyes,  like the stars in the snow.

she was an artist.
there was no other glow to compare to the beauty she saw, it reflected onto her skin and into her pale sunken eyes. the night is a dull and wonderless place. she watched other artists in confusion, wondering why they painted with ashes and blood onto an empty canvas. she painted with white onto black and into stars made of glass that sprang from darkness.
but she was no artist.
the lines spilling from her hands to her feet made a trace back to her heart and tangled her hair with frustration and breathless lungs. there was no longer room for a paintbrush. there was no longer room for air. the canvas was born empty. the stars were born without light. now evening towers above her, aching goodnight.

there is only one kind of love that I know
it hangs over my head silent and still
weaving around tufts of hair and
under my fingernails
there is only one kind of love that I know
it can be violent and cruel
always leaving a sweet taste in my mouth
and blackens my teeth
there is only one kind of love that I know
it pools in tears of anger instead of sadness
it softens rough edges making it
a bit harder to see
there is only one kind of love that I know
it will only be for the self and dwells within
for which it will never appear on
the surface on my skin in
red splotched lines
there is only one kind of love that I know
it has engraved words unspoken into flesh
burning into languages that never existed
the kind of love that I know is beautiful
but only in a camera lens and not in the
reflection of murky water
there is no trust between myself and these walls
it is distorted
running thin
how I wish this love would only last.

dancing away the seasons
why do sounds of spring sound like
fingernails on a chalkboard
all I want is warmth
all I want is to feel the sun on my skin
all I want is to brush golden rays in your hair
and call this fire mine
there's this destructive flame
it glimmers and sways
melts away the things that give us
power and fame
but through the leaves and the rain
we were born to be vain
no one sees you cry in the summer
icy cold haze where temperature is so far away
you need no one but the sun
and since the last two years have begun
I am drained and sunken
I need to sleep for the spring

Little Boy Blue lost his shoes
While dancing through The Forest
His soles never touched the ground
But The Earth spun around just the same

His Soft Little Tune
Sent him away from The Moon
Down to The Water's Edge
Will we catch a glimpse of sunlight ever?
Is seems though The Path leads forever

Little Boy Blue was lost in his muse
While taking back His Forest
His trembling hands ache too soon
Naked wandering eyes in the gloom
Say goodbye to your Little Boy's Doom

But The Stars bless the scars in his skin
The way flesh turns into rust and into sin
May The Trees part in way of your pride
And bow before Little Boy Blue