i collect them like some people collect buttons
jotting each one on whatever i can find
a scrap from a brown paper bag or a napkin
i'll forget them if i don't

i write endless lists of them
string them together and let them dangle like daisy chains
search for them on globes and in dictionaries
saving them for the perfect moment,
when they fit into place so perfectly
it makes my heart ache

Mr. Golden sun casting long shadows
Salty breeze hitting across
Acres of sand lying beneath our feet
Ups and downs like craters on the moon
Crows cawing, horses galloping and dogs basking in the sun
A straight line of ocean doodled below the empty sky
Gigantic ships appear like miniatures farther away
Hushing sound of waves
Four feet amidst frothy tides creating footprints
Carrying back some rustic soil on the toes
A little dirt never hurt
A bag of sea shells
Small, big, coloured and white, all with a coat of sand
A bag full of sea shells
The sun sets down
The radiant moon creates a guiding path in the dark shore
Following us back home
After a long evening at the beach
With my dear son

i am seaglass
collect me along the shore
i am once jagged edges
now dulled by time and salt
wounds full of salt
i have forgotten what sweet is
foggy clouded
clarity lost for the sake of beauty
i am discarded
collect me along the shore
i am scattered in pieces
that no longer fit together
curves and waves
i am tough i am smooth
i have lived my life in rough waters
water and rock
have rearranged my shape
i am under your feet
collect me along the shore

My lips are pierced shut
While my brain is scattering across the floor.
Everything is spilling out in front of you.
I'm breaking down
And loosing composure.

Struggling to collect the the pieces
In time before you make sense of it all.
Tiny fragments of grey matter
Covered in words you should have never read.

I am a collector.
Some would say I am good.
Others would say I am lucky.
A few who know me would say I'm a *****.

I couldn't care if I bang you.
I just want your number.
I'm just feeling the need to be better
Than everyone else.

To know I can get your girl, or that one over there.
My presence is bigger and I'm more important, you should care.
To know I could sleep with a celebrity's daughter.
The paparazzi would obviously look at me if they caught her.

Trust me, I can beat you at whatever it is.
I might be lying, A bluff; hit or a miss.
I've done someone like you before this,
A dozen times or more.

Bottom line ladies and gentlemen:
Know not just who I am,

I make myself look like a rogue and a roar
For fear of finding my role.
Collecting people and demanding more
Because I am afraid of who I am.

It's alright to be me.
I am nothing more.

I roam
These empty hallways
Tread on broken glass
That reflects you
And the little moments
I treasure so much.

I use my hands
Those which slipped into yours so perfectly
Like a puzzle piece
To pick up those shattered pieces.
They're scratched
By the sharp edges
That pierce my skin.

I carry those wisps of memories
in my arms
Those I used to wrap around you
In warm embrace.
They're ******,
Cut by the glass
Pressed against them.

I roam these empty hallways
Trying to
Collect memories,
Both good and bad.
But inside,
I hope that
Maybe,
Just maybe
I'll find you too,
Roaming these empty hallways
Picking up the
Fragments of us.