late in the night
when your mind isn't occupied
and
it's roaming free
brewing and simmering
starting to boil
before you know it
it's overflowing
spilling out,turning into ideals
memories and things
you never thought would happen
filling you like warm tea or
cocoa fills others up in the cold winter
what comes to mind ?
what brings tears to your eyes ?
or simply
fills you with joy ?

Then the tears came flowing
Pouring down her face
And the release in relinquishing her pain into the open,
Even if it was her alone in her room,
Brought a stillness of peace
At least, the closest thing to it she'd felt in a while
And so she wrote and she wrote and she wrote
Hoping it would take the pain out of her and onto the paper instead
Let her make sense of it all
And figure out what to do.
But no help came and the picture remained muddled
So with her tear stained cheeks she curled up to sleep
Praying it would be her last

Another one to add to my record books
I've watched yet another day's sunrise
but today's mash of day to night to day run on is slightly bent
Maybe it's how the clouds & sky looks
OR MAYBE my peace is on one of those really awesome highs
But to me it feels like the weather is trying to repent

Alone in my mind, I frequent there quite a bit
I'm a V.I.P. member, platinum access
Party of one, that reservation will never change
Routine time after time I'm left standing, too crowded to sit
&& knowing the outcome every time, yet still I habitually return to the mess
Some great times come out of there, I know it seems strange

My attention is rather easy to get but you won't have it long
Distractions catch me quick, lost in another disorganized thought
Loud endless static echo's from the constant ruckus
Which can be more annoying than a jammed doorbell's "DING ****, DING ****"
Focus is nonexistent with all the commotion, which is quite a lot
BUT I am not becoming one of the hopeless

Alone in my mind, always working overtime
Day or night doesn't matter when, it doesn't take breaks
Untangling it can sometimes be a tedious mission
Worse than trying to get directions from a mime
Hours could be lost by how long it takes
& for a split second, eyes blind to reality with empty vision

Now inside trying to sort & arrange my thoughts & word flow
From what makes sense & what needs to get real
But just like quick sand, it never fails
I get stuck in the same place
To my notebook's pages, it refuses to cooperate & correctly go
But it's not always such a big ordeal
Occasionally the words nice & easily fall into the correct space

Alone in my mind is where I usually can be found
When I'm up with the moon & stars
& all the house is fast asleep
There I sit with notebooks all around
With pages of scribbles about life & how it scars
But that's where my soul speaks & my emotions run deep

Love is not rational. It doesn't politely knock on the door of your heart and ask sweetly if it can destroy you all at once.

Love does not take you by the hand and explain all the ways that it will ruin you when it leaves. Love is a powerful hurricane that makes you sit in it's direct path. And forces you to pick up all the shattered pieces by yourself.

Love is a suicide bomber that we invite with open arms with out question to live next to the most precious and sacred parts of us.

Love is the fear that keeps us chained to the basements of ourselves hidden away behind bullet proof glass only to find ourself filled with holes left by cannons

Love is that endless crusade we suit up for. Only to find ourselves completely  naked on the battle field. Bruised and covered in tears that all to clearly look like our own.