We're just paintings
on a plaster wall,
where chips fall
to the linoleum floor,

where we sweep aside
the love and the loss,
our prayers that we cuss
when we have nothing more.

Our exhibit is open
to the ****** and the wicked
and all the good and the naked;
those who blindly trust.

Our love chips off
but we are fine with that
for we never look back
pretending to say, "we must."

In years, maybe
when we're fading and old;
ripped off the frame,fold,
when we're hastily stashed away —

If we were humans,
who could move, love, kneel
kiss and frame, and steal,
please ask me: "would you stay?"

And, yes.
Yes, I would, anyway.

I've been waiting for the day
you say you want me back.
I've been alone all this time,
that I seem not to understand it.

You threw my heart into the flames
I took our pictures out the frames
I tried to throw my heart out,
but I still keep 'em just in case.

If you're wondering if I still love you
after so much time has passed.

Since you ask,
I don't really want you back.
I just want the life we had.
I don't really want you close.
I just needed you to know,
that I don't really want you back.

I was standing somewhere alone,
watching things come and go,
listening to the noises and voices around me,
that moment was constant,
as nothing felt different,
no person or thing made me hold my breath a moment longer,

but then you came,
like a wind,
which turned into storm,
and somehow
you cancelled all the loud noises,
you blurred all the excessive frames,
it was as if you hacked my mind and
made me focus my everything on you.

I don’t know what happened in that moment
but it was different,
and for me
love is something different
something that mesmerizes you,
amazes you, and something that you hold onto.

I stare at empty picture frames...

         Vacant memories never filled..
That moment I regret was never saying..
                                                    *"I do,

I watch you crawling slowly,
the earth clothes you;
i watch as light shakes
your limbs in supperating harmony,
the earth conceals you;
i watch your expiration,
the earth frames you.
i watch your quiet resurrection,
emerging crossly into day,
the earth, the dry warm earth
chokes you.

Love doesn't rhyme;
the rules imposed,
the frames we chose,
do not apply,
although we try
to tame its flow
we sink below,
we seek
salvation by escape;
we bravely dove
but there's the threat
of drowning

the rhythm
and the melody
it's giving us,
all random...
but do we
lose ourselves
to find them,
or is it them
we lose
to find ourselves,
I cannot help
but wonder...

Everywhere I look these things exist
No matter where you are these things persist
Hardly ever noticed and sometimes taken for granted
But in very few places are they an antic
They don’t squeeze they don’t bind
If you are confined by one you are fine
Everyone has one believe it or not
But you and I are different because we do not
While they are stuck with nowhere to go
We are free and can only grow
With no limits we are freer than free
And because of this difference we are happy as can be

I think harmony is one of those things,
that can only be determined from an internal blueprint.
Concepts emerge,
and this reasoning is extracted,
from beautiful objects and ideas.
Simply,
an idea formed,
and              framed
by                        a
grouping           of
other                ideas.