Snow is not supposed to be blue.
But it is. Tangled
in her locks so blue that the seas become envious.
The hair of the girl I thought I loved when I
thought I knew what love is.
But I don’t think that anyone knows what love is. We
hope and pray that the phrases that we string together with
flowers and promises can represent this idea that we
dream
about grasping in our trembling fingers since the day we came into this world
kicking and screaming.
We’ve been trying to figure out how to feel love and tackling the freezing fear of,
“What if I never find it?”
As if love is inside the treasure chest buried beneath the world,
Accessible to those who can find the map and find the spot marked with an X.

X is such an ugly sound.

It’s the sound of listening to her argue with her ex-boyfriend about their ex-relationship
And about the ex-problems that they had in their past ex-together and
it’s listening to her slamming the door to her bedroom in a tantrum because
sometimes love is not enough.
But if love is not enough, what is?
And what about love is not enough and can it be fixed and
mended like your mother kissing your knee after you fell outside
playing tag
with the neighbor girl with hair so blue
you swear that the gods made it from a summer sky itself?
If we are too young to understand love at thirteen when
your crush kisses you in the darkened gymnasium at the middle school dance then
how can we know that love is what we feel at six years old for the
fathers when they play hide-and-seek in the yard with us and
know that there is an absence of love for the
mothers that turn us aside and build fences between us
are those fences there to keep me out or to keep her and her anger in?
So, logically, if we don’t know love at six or thirteen then
when do we learn what love can be and how do we learn what love is?
Is it trial and error where we have to wait for “the one”
or is it just a guessing game, a gamble, and
hope that the person that you have so many
similar interests and hobbies and passions and beliefs and feelings with is
a person that you are in love with?
So do I love the girl beside me
sprawled out in the morning snow?
With hair so blue that the seas become envious?
No.
After all, how can I?
I don’t even know what love is.

Why do I wake up in the morning?
A question I ponder occasionally.
If not for the morning daze and slow turning gears within my brain,
I’d ponder it every morning.
Nonetheless, this question,
“Why do I wake up every morning?”
Stays on my mind.
If you’re reading this expecting some words of wisdom,
A pivotal string of words to set you on the right path,
Then I’m sorry,
You best keep searching.
Truth be told,
I have no clue why I wake up every morning.
Now, don’t misunderstand,
I’m not a man lacking a passion,
Lost in the world,
Or spiraling down into a hole of despair.
I’m simple a man that has come to a realization.
A realization that I’m walking down a path with no defined destination.
I wake up to prepare for work or school,
Trekking through a day of daydreaming and battling my inner vices within the confines of my mind.
Why do I do this?
Why bother?
What’s my motivation to continue with my days?
Seems I wake up every morning to question more of my reality.
Seems I wake up every morning to just keep walking down this limited and undefined path
Because truth be told,
I don’t know why I wake up in the morning.

Words trapped in a web of deceit,
Ready to be eaten by a hateful society.
Quick on their feet, so fast to judge;
And I sit and I think,
What should I do to stay true?
But also avoid the painful realities
That lie before me.
How do I find a new way to better days?
The web is strong,
But it's not indestructible.

i am a cloud that's been forced
into a shape and labeled "girl"
and it doesn't. feel. right.

i'm not supposed to be in this body
this soul doesn't fit in any skin
i was a ghost in another life
someday i will be again

i could just be a black cloud
i could just float around whispering
to kids who feel trapped
like i did.

i could enfold them
let them take rest
give them a minute away from this mess.
but i'm stuck
here, and so are the words in my throat.

Eyes wide
you do not allow
oblivious sleep
shadows branded
on my retina
reveal all contrast
tattooed on my shoulder
a skeletal hand
this illusion  
pins me down

your questions
have no answers
questions remain
asked again and again
I swear
I know nothing

You say everything
is immaterial
subjectively real
ideas existent
in the mind
of the perceiver
I am
(you insist)
a true believer

Parched and shrinking
I ask for mercy
you bring the cup
to my fissured lips
but it is empty
a vessel of air
you murmur
there is only enough
for one
what will you give
in return?

Heavy metal
arpeggios of wind
head bang
petulant faces
inured to rain
a repeating refrain
in falsehood
lies your truth

but even you
cannot halt the dawn
a dark horizon
pulls the strings
powerless
you sink
behind the cloud-
wall of your storm

is it safe now to close my eyes?
three times whisper
be gone
              bright fiend
a weary incantation
spell of protection
the yawning wind
done with howling
hums reassuringly
                            
                       *“a change is gonna come
                                                            ­      imagine
                                                   ­                            peace in our time”

Why it took me so long to grow up?
While you were pouring yourself over beds
I was fighting demons with my head...

And if I find myself at a crossroad,
no one to turn to, no man's land
I still have my friend's hand
I still have the heat of those
who never go far
I'll go back...oh no, I will never go back!

Because
I do love you, I do love you
but I cannot fight my life
And your insistence
makes my heart pound
but not in a good way

And if I find myself at a crossroad,
without you, without him,
I don't have time to cry, because, oh,
this is life....

And if I find myself alone again
I've been here before
I've got a crutch, prosthetic legs
I've learnt a lot, that never wanes.

And if I find myself again alone
I won't spend my time in the Tinders of the world.
And if the cloth's about to tear,
let it tear down, tear us down
and go on, go on...

I'm prepared for the worst
and I'm standing strong

I hope you understand
Why I do not believe in you.
From the evidence at hand;
The many things you choose not to do.
I’d vilify a human friend
Who told me like you did
Of how you were watching
Then ran away and hid.

Children keep dying
The poor and the weak too
And you still seem to find
No cause to see them through;
To put clothes on the backs
Of those who are in need.
Nor do you strike down
Those who worship greed.

Your followers tell lies
And expect us to believe
And demand we ignore
Those who suffer and grieve
If they are different
From those in power.
Their speeches all the same
It’s never our hour.

It’s always time for tithes
The bribes they demand
But paying back so seldom
Is ever quite at hand.
It’s always time for us to
Have sympathy and charity
But not for the rich and strong.
Where is the parity?

So, if you create everything
And see the falling sparrow
Why are you deaf so often
Your vision so **** narrow?
It’s been thousands of years
Since your supposed first night.
When will you fix things
And set your world aright?

Could it be, as I always say
That you really don’t exist?
I see no reason to believe,
Thus I must insist;
There cannot be a loving god
Unless he is one of many.
Either way, I fail to see
The proof that we have any.

I don't know
Something's wrong
I feel weird
I feel low

Seems like a circle
All the way round
Feels like a bubble
Bubble of doubt

Doubts everywhere
Doubts here and there
The insecurities
Have become real

Why do I feel
The things I feel
The world is changing
All around me

I have to hear
And to perceive
This is not the world
This is only me

Not only me though
Me and my mind
They have caused this
They are combined

Since I know this
I have to go on
Being aware
Cause it's nothing at all.