you showed me
the kind of love
and kindness
I didn't know at the time
came from above
you were nothing less
than a gift from God
you were
and I wonder
how heart grew so big
he sent you to touch many
especially me
you gave your who life's time
to helping others
I watched you
go so out of your way
to give all you could
to so many strangers
you did it with joy
it wasn't a chore for you
how did your hear get so big
and looking back now
I don't think your heart problems
were caused by your diet
or genetics
it was because you gave
and gave and gave
and gave all that was in it
as much as a human heart
would possibly allow
and I know you didn't regret it
you were sincere
you were genuinely interested
in the lives of others
never considering what you
looked like to them
you just loved to give
and
when you called me your favorite
I know that you meant it
the bond that we shared
was truly one of a kind
the love you showered on me
was not of this world
dad
how did your heart get so big

I know you
I burn in the flame from the glint in your eye
I sense the power in an insecure smile
I feel the danger in sarcastic defense

I see you
Desperate search in a forest so dense
Fighting the current, feet bloodied and red
You flex and bow, delicate perch, fragile limb

I taste you
From knees to shoulders In feline repose
A punch in the face from the twist of a nose
My blood hints of freedom, drips off my lips.

I feel you
It’s an electric vibration, synaptic attention
An ambiance, subtle change in light
Conflagration grows while sparrows take flight.

You know
I am pretty happy
But its not what you think.

Its a box.

Yeah,

Its a box i sit in.
Its the place I built
To hide from myself.
I got my girl.
I got my boys.
I got my friends,
And my games,
And my job.

So im good.

But,

You see.
There are times,
When I think about
How messed up people
Can be:

To each other.
To themselves.
To animals.
To Earth.
To what we can really be,
What we NEED to be.
Even to little kids..........

And this is the time,
Yeah,
When all i wanna do is
peak
Over the lid of that box
And then:

My eyes glisten
within the flames
of pure agression.

The blind kind.

And I watch
As i fall somehow,
within myself,
Like down the throat of a dragon.
Screaming in absolute rage.

You know,...

 the tunnel vision kind?
The seeing red and black kind?
The saves you in fist fights kind?
The no pain kind.

The "if you even hint
That you are thinking,
What I THINK you are thinking.
I will claw my finger nails away
And ******,
trying to scratch my way to it.
Through your idiotic skull.
So i could remove
What would be the first thought
You've had in years.
So that I could then
Deny its rightful place
As king to the bran muffin
Between your diamond earings
You use to make decisions.
Just so I could then devour it
Excrete it back out,
Set it afire with
The very rage of
HUMANKIND
That floats somewhere
Between my heart, lips and mind
Just so I could Then throw myself
Upon those very flames.

And all of that...?

So that what remains of me
Won't have the energy to waste
On the thought of you."
Kind of

RED

RAGE

You say he is our favorite child
We say there are no favorites
He was just easier

My mother thinks she knows me, she thinks she knows my favorite color, she thinks she knows my favorite chip, she thinks she knows me. The saddest part is, she doesn't know my scars, my tears, my personality, my heart. I try to show some of myself but she just shuts me down. I try to show my heart but she just crushes it. I try to show my real self but she just throws it away. So, if I tell you one day that you don't know me, I know I am right.

that girl will turn you into poetry
she will write about the way your starry eyes shine so brightly
when talking of the things you're passionate about
she will write about falling in love with a mind more potent than
any drug and laugh like wind-chimes
she will write about the way your voice sounds at 3am, the way your
eyes crinkle when you smile, and the way you look at her when you say "i love you"
that girl will turn you into poetry
she will catch every little thing you do
every tilt of your head, every fidget with the sheets, every nervous laugh, and every shy smile
she'll analyze the meaning behind them and put them on paper because she's fallen in love with the things you didn't even realize you were doing
that girl will turn you into poetry
she will memories the feel of your hand in hers, the shape of your mouth, and the sound of your heart thumping as she lies on your chest
that girl will love you like a poet
so be gentle, for many poets die of a broken heart