Close your eyes
And hold my hand.
Whatever you do.
Do not open your eyes
And do not let go

Else

You will turn to ashes
And the wind will carry you away and scatter
Though it may be dark
Though it may be a mighty wind
Precious memory hold me tight
And keep your eyes closed



Tangled in the yarns of endless strife and lost in the labyrinth of incomprehensible and unsolved
emotions. My emotions are a puzzle and anyone who dares to solve them end up insane. They call
me crazy, they call me queer. I wish they’d just call me misunderstood because truly that is what I
am. I wish they would understand that I don’t understand myself and thus I cannot be understood.
They should have me how they find me for I am sweet and my after taste is long lasting. I know
myself yet I don’t understand myself. Nevertheless I hold light of what is important for I am a
philosopher at heart. I can understand you more than you can understand yourself. I can love you
more than you can love yourself because I care for everyone. Will you forego my care for
understanding of myself? Will you deny yourself my humour and life for the sake of my craziness?
Don’t try to do what others have failed at. Just have me for who I am and what I do. Most of what I
do is largely for the benefit of others. Let me be and you’d find that it isn’t so complicated after all.

I wrung my chest of pain and spilled it on a paper.

I wrote of long lost loves

I wrote of dreams lost

I wrote of heart aches

And I sealed it with tears.

Yes I wrote because I could only feel so much before my dingy little body overflowed with pain.

I wrote of pain and I wrote of anguish.

Shall I write of happiness?

Not quite. We aren't acquainted yet you see. I only write of my friends and bedfellows

Don't go selling your sorrow

Nor mongering your pain in return for pity

Let us laugh and remember no more.

Let us plant our anguish and it shall bear fruit of joy

Let us cry and allow old sorrow to flow through our tears

Let us look forward our chains will fall off, our past bound to our ankles shall fall off.

We will move forth into the land flowing with milk and honey

Alas we shall dance to the music of wind and rain

Innocent, that is what we are

Weak, that is what we are not

Fighters, that is how we are born