We always look at the moon
admiring its light
holding hands with one another
wishing upon a star
that lies around the aura of the moon's brightness

we seem to seek out
only what makes us happier
instead of appreciating
the dark side
sprinkled with inverted light
we don't appreciate
the beautiful disaster
that showed us
how to grow
with the pain

Live blog: Romney and Stanton vie for Iowa win.
Dead heat in the dead of winter
What do the Iowa results really mean?
That Romney's less of a robot than he seems?

Oh, by the way: replacing a bulb, can save you 50 dollars or more!
But it'll cost you ten times as much, at your hardware store.
Starbuck's hikes prices despite the lull,
People stupidly betting on Powerball,
Selma Hayek's trending, y'all!
(We don't know why).

But what's all that compared to shootings?
Soldiers flying and not being sniffed,
Suspects nabbed in Utah killings,
And GOP runners had another tiff.

Personally, I'm more fascinated,
In the Aussie hybrid sharks!
This might mean global warming's overrated,
Or that animals are way smart.

Mideast peace-talks stalled, I read.
Have I not read this before?
Oh, yeah, back in 1972.
When psychos killed athletic Jews,
Who might win
And Olympic village was off view,
While the Israelis dragged people in.

That year, Nixon was re-elected
And we thought we'd never see worse,
Yet now the nation is infected
With a yellow-haired, inhuman curse.
Blog goes to sleep...

Begun long ago and finished in 2018

I miss him cause he showed me how to be treated.
He showed me that if someone really wanted to see me they will
If someone really cared they’ll show it
If someone really loved you they’ll tell you
He showed me how someone who truly wants to be with you will sacrifice and make it work.
Yes we did end but it was all peaceful.
He was literally put in my life to show me how to be treated.

Play your 3 favorite
Albums
Throw in another
play it backwards

All together
you will
love it

cheerz!!!
try it

Feelings i wish they could fade it would make things easier i know u just wanna smash me then pass me i was hoping i could change your mind you don't love me u just love what u could do to me so don't tell me u love me

“Oh”
Two letters. One syllable. Packing more punch than an insect striking a windshield. At least in that scenario, the pain is momentary, release is instant.

But you. You said that simple word and the emptiness in the silence that followed was anything but. Because what it truly meant was disappointment. Confusion. Regret.

“I wish I would have known”
That’s why I was telling you now. Shouldn’t that have accounted for something? Shouldn’t you have seen it was hard for me to tell you that.

Falling asleep.
I wanted to cry. I wanted to know what was going on inside of your head because **** me, I liked you now and then that happened and now I felt uneasy of myself. Of my worth. All of it through the lens of you.

I feel like something is wrong but I don’t know what. Did I do something, or is it because of what I didn’t do? Just speak your truth to me.

“Sleep well”
With an emoji. Does that equate emotion? Or is it a filler for words you don’t know how to say, feelings you can’t convey, the way you’ll break my heart eventually but for now I should ‘sleep well’, sleep well.

Well it’s hard to sleep when the person you care about is the one keeping you awake at night. Do you even still care.

“Sweet dreams”
I say. But what I really mean is I miss you. Do you miss me? I miss your touch, your laugh, the way you slightly smile when you pull back from kissing me, the way you looked at me as you hovered above: that look of genuine desire. Was it all just physical?

Only time will tell. But in the meantime I hate the social constructs that tell me to play this game, to wait it out? To not look clingy? To not want someone. I hate it. But that’s the rules of the game.

So. Your move.

I don't got a heart
I got a punching bag
Come and hit it if you with it
It won't make me sad-
der
As a matter of fact it won't even make mad
Girl I got a punching bag
Rolling down Ocean soon we'll be blunt smoking
Toking, you know that talk that I'm talking
She a stoner like me, yeah she rolling easy
Riding with me for the time being
She has got my heart beating
She has got my bag swinging

Not ev-ree-wún can put words down
In stanzas and lines
And make them rhyme.

Not ev-ree-wún will pour out
Their hearts on a page
To clear out the rage.

Not ev-ree-wún wants to write
When they are in pain
Depressed or afraid.

Not ev-ree-wún can be honest
With themselves
And write about how they feel
About something or someone else​
Or even themselves.

Not ev-ree-wún can be creative
Not ev-ree-wún can tell the truth
Not ev-ree-wún can be a pow-it.