when you are sad
let the tears roll
be friends with silence for a moment
soften your heart again
with the voice of the silence
then grieve sufficiently

For some reason.
It will always bring us closer.
In ways no one wants.
But everyone needs.
To be able to realize.
Life is short.
One minute you are here.
The next you never know.
So cherish one another.
Be thankful for one another.
Be kind to one another.
Because once the other is gone.
Don't let their death be the reason you return.
You'll never forget.  
What you once said you'll never forgive.
To the ones who have left us.
From the celebrities.
To the teens shot just for being there.
Or just the friends we saw around christmas.
I wish you only peace.
Because we will never be able to.
Now that you are gone.

I stopped caring.
A view of the world outside
escapes my morning eyes.
I eclipse you.
A view of the world outside
reveals wire frame in black.

The sky is wide. I'm just beneath heaven.
Have you ever felt as close to god there?
On the Earth turned cement dry?
In the dregs where lines divide?

I stopped caring.
A view of the world outside
escapes my morning eyes.
I eclipse you.

I regret that I see lines, instead.
One triangle on its head, risen
above the sun, above the moon.
The sight of you, deprived,
drives me back inside.

----------------------------------------------

Felt mostly alone.
Never deprived.
Unhappy with life,
still overjoyed.
My mama stole my name.
My sister got her's took.
Pass the line from child
hood into adulthood,
looking like,
I know, I'm sure I know
I can't owe you money, yet,
I've never lived
on my own.

That's still true, too.
Don't know the sound of silence,
so when it's been most quiet
staying with roommates,
I take my chance at pretend.
I wake up dying, laughing
and crying at ghostly degrees
floating with motes of dust
on the sunbeams
crossing my mattress
in the living room.

Felt mostly alone.
Uneducated.
Contented by kicking cans, though.
Contented in stinky briefs,
and the shirt that's food
for my closet moths,
looking for cheap ways
to express the illness,
the anger I hide.

I believe, that some use our backs
for stacking currency. For work.
Invisible work, deep under the radar,
pack mule to their nickel,
fifty-*******-cent pieces
and dimes.

I'm staring at pennies
they leave me to roll,
already rolling, like
they expect me to catch up.
The secret is:
they want it
so badly --

So game over. I ain't playing
no more, when the piece I play
climbs the backs of friends,
my brethren of the low-low,
one space at a time, with dice
cooked, favor to snake eyes

I'm not chasing pennies
if I'm so close to the floor
I'll always be carpet,
I'll part the lint and braid
to love what is free.

I'll always be base
to love what is free.

No words I can speak.
Nothing more than silence that has taken hold of your presence,
embraced it and took it away.
An empty spot next to the lamp I gave for your birthday,
remembering how I spoiled the present by a slip of the tongue,
not knowing that you wouldn't even outlive the lamps guarantee,
not knowing that someday soon,
you would not be here with me.