Our Cells
Contain the universe
So lets
Gaze upon
Ourselves.

You are someone's universe
Or galaxy or the brightest star in
Their night sky.

You are precious, my love.

You are needed,
More than you could ever think.

You are in their thoughts,
Memories of you linger in their minds
Like the fresh fragrance
Of roses.

They think about you
Every day;
Each passing second and minute.

You are deeply loved, and
Your life matters.

You are not to be blamed,
My love.

Life gets difficult sometimes, things
Do not go as planned,
Rejections and failures happen
But that doesn't mean
Life isn't beautiful or you have to
Give up.

Your day is just not here yet,
My love.

So don't give up, and
Don't taint your arms with strokes
Of crimson red.

You are an incredible person.

You are braver than any soldier
To walk on this planet.

Your battle scars
Are what makes you beautiful;
Wear them like a medallion
And be proud of them.

Because battle scars will heal,
Death doesn't.

I leave the mirror
Scarred by rejection
Thinking at a glance
Its just an optical illusion
I'm the spitting image
Of who I want to be
Gleefully I left them there
Empty

And I have seen paradise before
It was a heaven of ideological
proportions
located
on the junction
of childhood and interstates
of man and youth, with marble floors
and distant speakers echoing drops off of
cell phone booths
and older people
selling things for us to buy
to find ourselves happy in the moment
deep cascading waterfalls

Is this heaven?

When a child it's all you see
the white and pedicured purity
of a waxed granite floor,
the impersonal monotony
feeling a soul in a world unknown
the closest thing to dreaming
Old T.Vs selling like hotcakes
buy it while it's new!

Gameboy games, pokemon on the tele
silent in the face of some strange musician
playing unworded tunes you'll recognize later
their focus-grouped chords left somewhere in your mind
for you to hum when bored

Everything was perfect, then?
was it?

Those same malls don't sparkle
no more

maybe it's just the grime of life
blocking the mirrored measure of my childhood soul
lost amidst the echoes
the sweet music of truth
bouncing off of the uncolored walls
a send-off of my youth

Maybe when we go back, one day
the walls won't be quite so grey
they'll be power-washed with light,
shine better than ever before,
nothing to buy but our happiness
somewhere in those hallowed halls
searching those windows into other lives
hoping to find the key to our soul
to leave this silly Sphere and
Roebuck
our boat back out the sliding door
-windows
back out into the real world,
no longer dreaming.

Walk with caution long-haired girl,
It's already late and the bells are about to sing,
You will not want to fall in love with the guitarist
Of boots and hat.

They say he takes the girls
Especially those with black hair,
Be careful brown skin,
Not his size, but his spells.

When the horses cry,
Run to your house and do not wait for serenade,
The braid to the horses,
While playing his guitar.

And if someone touches your sale,
Be careful! What is the Sombrerón!

It was the emergency room
He recognised them all
Some looked very happy
Some looked concerned
Some were crying
Some making prayerful gestures
But none looked like sugarman
He was too busy milking the
Lifeblood out of someone else