To be broken

Without repair

Is a game without a token

To have been caught and snared

I've got a bad habit

We all do

A favorable habit

Let it forward and ensue

The smile is a trap

With all the warning signs

I guzzle the drugs

To take the plunge

And shift through the wreckage

Piece it together with perpetual guilt

We can't cure the sickness

When it's cold before you hit the ground

Let it snow let it snow let it snow

Hopefully the cold will numb it

As it did before

Then when summer comes to melt the ground

Pick me up as you did before

Broken and battered

Repaired and bruised

When I jump again

Maybe just maybe

You won't put me together

And help me again

You and I are the same
And so
we will
always
come back
for more

Every breath I take reminds me I'm alive
My uniqueness survives my weakness,
my illness has given me a strength, that,
I never knew existed.
My health is deteriorating, failing,
day by day, but despite these facts,
I can say "******* MS" I'm staying
at least a while longer!
I'll never give up, or give in, without a scream, or a fight.
You have stealth, I have a wealth of love
You have insubstantiality, I have no regrets
You have pain, I have gain.
Through my pain, fatigue, depression and laments,
I've gained a friend, ME.

I see no benefit
to share my innermost thoughts
with anyone.
*Especially someone
intending to fix me.

Bittersweet lime-flavoured love
An apparition, a ghost, a face I think of
A mere shadow without definition or name
A hopefulness for the fulfilment of why I came.
Stretching into the ghetto of my mind
Is a body, a shape, a stencil of who may be mine
Reaching against the wicked hands of time
Yet never grasping; a drop of sugar, a cup of lime

Down on my knees with my hands clasped tight in prayer
And my will alone shakes the foundation, yet no one appears
Errant tendrils of loneliness grip at my rotting soul and heart
And the rejection, and the hurt, and the hope tears me apart.
I am now a sinister, cynical shell of who I used to be
And I plead, I beg the monotony to set me free
As I am suffocating on the slimmest sliver of a wish
My head turned upwards, lips waiting for a kiss.

Whether love, or like, or grudging intimacy
So be it, for I need it, and whatever else it may be
Thus, I will wait by the water's edge where the waves are violent
I'll wait at the volcano's peak, before it erupts, when all is quiet.
I'll hang to a fraying rope placed miles above solid ground
I'll stand at the edge of a tall building and dizzy myself looking down
Until someone, or something, arrives from somewhere to extend my time
Until the taste finally fades: a drop of the sweetest sugar, a cup of bitter lime.

The doer without desire,
Who does not boast of his deed,
Who is ardent, enduring,
Untouched by triumph,
In failure untroubled:
He is a man of sattwa (the energy of inspiration)

The doer with desire,
Hot for the prize of vain glory,
Brutal, greedy and foul
In triumph too quick to rejoyce,
In failure despairing:
He is a man of fajas (the energy of action)

The indifferent doer
Whose heart is not in his deed,
Stupid and stubborn,
A cheat, and malicious,
The idle lover of delay,
Easily dejected:
He is a man of tamas (the energy of inertia).

This here is hallowed ground
Simply because I say so
Hold your tongue; not a sound
On this here hallowed ground

This here is a spiritual place
Simply because it is
Feel catharsis in the tears on your face
In this here spiritual place

This here is wrong
Simply because I don't understand it
Don't be like them or sing their songs
Because that, they, are wrong.

This here is right
Only because it's black and white
Don't you ever stray from what we like
Conform with us tonight.