Play her a simple melody.

Will write things with her movement.
Two thousand silent words with her body.

Has always been one with words.
Studies the curves of their backs and the lengths or their tails.

Her books climb ladders to the top shelf by themselves, everything needed bounded to their spine.

Keeps her teardrops in a jar by the bedside.
Lies awake, counting them.
Only reads her favorite stories, over and over,
until she falls asleep.

The mind of an insomniac is always in pain.

Favoring the moon? Or the sun?
One dies when the other is born.

Things inside my closet pt.1

Four blue walls, four pink walls, three yellow walls, one green.
Moved everything across the hall got paint on the ceiling,

put pictures on the wall.

Went away, came back.
Took pictures off the wall, photographs of strangers.

Put them in a box, back of the closet.

She told me once that skeletons sleep there.

Seems peaceful.

Out of sight, never mind.

Lost my home, but found a new one.

If you lose yourself, check my closet.



a.bee

I want you to understand
that I turn everything that matters to me
into an item of personification
I want to scream to you that
when I see your hands stretched out of the car window,
I need to capture that exact moment and
turn the contrast bar all the way up
I thank whatever is above us that you can't feel the way my heart beats
and that I can't ever express it correctly
****, I'd love for you to be able to feel things
Just as deeply as me and
the knots in my stomach are a constant reminder
of the *** holes in the road
As if they are screaming at us
as we drive over them
I hear them all night long, however,
I cant seem to focus on anything but the *******
contrast bar

Have you ever asked the question

How do pictures work?

They're just images of fleeting times

But worth a thousand words

I've got a box of thousands

In this box they're  safe at last

They're memories all stored away

Of my childhood and my past

What happened to those people ?

Who were captured for a second

I guess some died and some grew up

At least, that's what I reckon

Sad images and happy ones

Just echos never heard

But memories come flooding back

Each one....a thousand words

That holiday, the fishing trip

A birthday that was fun

Each just a sliver of your life

A time that is now done

Look back and you are younger

All those people still alive

That picture of you at the lake

Where you first learned how to dive

They all sit here inside the box

Not one can be discarded

For each one is a piece of me

Of how my whole life started

There's some I can't remember

Really, more than you should know

And some, well..there's that hairdo

That's just one I'll never show

You look at them and wonder

What possessed me on that day

To take a picture of that place

And now, I could'nt say

Most names are lost to memory

But the faces I recall

I might know who some are in them

But I do not know them all

I wish that as I see them

I could spend more time with them

It would be just something special

To share a moment once again

For now, the box is hidden

In a cupboard, in the back

A box of little snippents

That have made up my lifes track

You look at some and wish

You could always stay that way

But life is not a fairy tale

It isn't Dorian Gray

Best put the pictures back now

Bring them out in years to come

For their story of a thousand words

Must start with only one

Don't throw away one photo

For each one fills in a hole

They're  a picture of your being

And they all make up your soul

It's amazing how a picture

Wakes your mind, gives it a ****

Have you ever really wondered

Juist how do pictures work?

Taking pictures
Taking a picture frezzes a moment in time
can it be changed
can it be what you heaven will be
showing us what our mine sometimes forgets
every once in a while something appears in an image that isn't normally there
like a ghost of a figure or a bright shinning light
could it be that someone is keeping an eye on us to keep us on a straight past
who knows it's still unexplained till this very day
taking a picture of the once we lose
preserves the person we love the moment before they are taken from us in a blink of an eye
makes us feel they are with us for the rest of our lives
with these pictures we see just how our lives turn out
to give us a chance to see if we have turned out to be the person we wanted to become
or to give us a look at our lives to see if we can change and turn it all around
when we get married an have kids in our lives
we take there pictures so that they can watch themselves grow up on year at a time
so they have a chance to change everything in the course of there lives
or keep it as it turned to what they wanted it to be
then they will have they own kids one day and it starts all over again

I am an abundance of lost stars.

And they've all gone supernova.

Now they're just splattered throughout space,
Throughout the darkness and the abyss.

And now they call me beautiful.

Because pain and chaos always paints the prettiest pictures.

Spring is here,
Bringing memories so dear,
Deep within my heart,

I think of the days,
We used to smoke,
And watch
The squirrels at the park,

I cocked my hip,
As you took a pic,
Standing from behind,
I'll suffer through the days without you,
For it's only a limit of time.