Darkness overblown by light
At night the world rolls into bed
by dawn we shall make things right again. So it says.

The bubbling of me and you arises
when two people come together and fight
I don't get what you see, in all this protection.
Money out the window, weapon conventions.

It seems to be an excuse to hang loose and chill
when really the world is burning, and we're itching to ****
our mind in the night, by day we change.

Dawn up, sky blue, no matter in the world, today is perfect. Silenced if you're hurting. Like darkness real problems get pushed to the side.

The great thing about a slow-cooker is that you can make one meal on Sunday and have dinner covered for the rest of the week.

The downside of a slow-cooker is that you'll be eating the same thing for dinner all week.

I bought a carton of eggs this morning.
Just a dozen.
Along with about $100 of other groceries I needed.
I didn't need the eggs though.
That is to say, that I didn't need to buy them.

(See, my sister has four fully grown chickens
who lay enough eggs to cover her family's needs and then some.
More eggs than she knows what to do with, honestly, and I could've easily gone to her place to get the dozen instead of buying it at the store.)

But I didn't, as a matter of convenience. It was simpler to buy them while I was at the store; to make one trip instead of two.

But then, when I was unloading the cart of groceries into the trunk of my car, that carton of eggs I bought, which (unbeknownst to me) had been placed on top of a 12 pack of toilet paper which toppled over after becoming unbalanced without the support of the other grocery bags that I had already unloaded, came crashing down.

They hit the parking-lot cement with a smack.
"Oh no, not the eggs!"
That's what I'd said.
I seriously said that out loud.

I picked up the bag with the fallen eggs in it. I opened the carton to see if they were alright, though I already knew at least a few had broken.

5, maybe 6. Maybe more. I don't know how many broke exactly, just looking at it made me sick. I walked the dripping bag back up to the entrance (after playing with the idea of going back in and being like: "Hey, my eggs broke in the parking lot because your inept bagger's idea of how to stack groceries was clearly inspired by the game Jenga. I demand a new carton of eggs!") but instead I just tossed them. The whole carton.

I'll just go to my sister's house before breakfast tomorrow.

We wrap up warm
Avoid the outdoors
Try not to snivel
Forget our tissues
Cough in clouds of steam
Take the bus
Sit beside the radiator
Relish hot showers
Never sweat

City of cake
built on tears
beyond the bridge
to my fears.

Is HP now a T.V guide?
It drives me to distraction
to see these adds on the front page
when I want some poem action.
Our poets are all writing
and posting stuff to read
but the room is being taken up
by adds for crap tv.
So listen up dear spammers
this warning you should heed
shove your ****** adverts
anywhere but on my feed!!

That awkward moment when
You realize your entire life
Your passions
Your opportunities
Your abilities
Are all made possible by the
Blood
Sweat
And Tears
Of people you will never even know
Existed

This is the end of 'tomorrow's
And 'maybe's and 'sorta's and 'shrugs'
This is the end of beginnings
That never amount to His love

This is the end of the water
That's lukewarm, not cold and not hot
This is the end of just saying
That we'd rather just sit here and rot.

This is the end of your sorrows
That are given more attention and care
Than the unmourned deaths of the millions
Who die without knowing He's there.

This is the end of the judgement
We all so readily give
To those who just needed a Savior
And who now don't see why they should live.

This is the end of the 'nervous'
Where you don't speak 'cause you're afraid
This is the start of your courage
Where you stand up 'cause you're not ashamed.