These you cannot see.
Mine are hidden
beneath the surface.

They take on a different meaning.
A world of hurt and betrayal.
Many have been here before.
I, far too much.

Mine cannot be seen.
Not on the surface.
My scars.

If making you understand is the only way out,
I'd rather just blast off my head with a rubber balloon bazooka,
I  wonder  if  it's  ever  existed
It will be a never ending story.

When I say I love you,
I am talking to the person that I thought you were,
not the shell that you've become.
Your facade is transparent,
and the cross that you choose to bear isn't exactly saving anyone's sins.
So please tell me why.
Why are you making things
more difficult than they have to be?
I wanted to be with you.
I wanted to be with you,
and you can't lie to me.
You wanted me in your life too.
I trusted you.
You betrayed me.
You are a coward
and I am a coward for not admitting it.

MANY things I might have said today.
And I kept my mouth shut.
So many times I was asked
To come and say the same things
Everybody was saying, no end
To the yes-yes, yes-yes, me-too, me-too.
  
The aprons of silence covered me.
A wire and hatch held my tongue.
I spit nails into an abyss and listened.
I shut off the gabble of Jones, Johnson, Smith.
All whose names take pages in the city directory.
  
I fixed up a padded cell and lugged it around.
I locked myself in and nobody knew it.
Only the keeper and the kept in the hoosegow
Knew it-on the streets, in the postoffice,
On the cars, into the railroad station
Where the caller was calling, "All a-board,
All a-board for .. Blaa-blaa .. Blaa-blaa,
Blaa-blaa .. and all points northwest .. all a-board."
Here I took along my own hoosegow
And did business with my own thoughts.
Do you see? It must be the aprons of silence.

When I talk with other men
I always think of you—
Your words are keener than their words,
And they are gentler, too.

When I look at other men,
I wish your face were there,
With its gray eyes and dark skin
And tossed black hair.

When I think of other men,
Dreaming alone by day,
The thought of you like a strong wind
Blows the dreams away.

[sweet pungent synthesis]
always with dank hysterical women demonstrating the distilled liquid elixir of their many years in isolation.
they are the nitrogen-rich followers of an ultraviolet shrine, such is
a photosynthetic life-form, reacting/enacting/enhancing.
they reach for holes in the moon &
on four-legged fumes carbonize seeds into sons and daughters. birth/
life.
all flowers ache forth to display color and/or
their varietals of hairy oil content.
to dip psychotropics, thus the worship of brain frequency and light.
fresh progress,
the sugar crystal compounds impacting, intact, and swollen.
trichomes, like huddled little masses of grandbabies bowed upon the ridge.
she drips
in dance and derives her form from properties plucked by time,
by moms, and pops.
to discover is to find purity in a moment.
pure travel/ pure
death.
this growing force,
this apparition of sound within me. organics.
organisms bound by great beauty and failure.
sense not the vivid panic, or the shock of last black, but hold true
to an inner joyous/outer motionous, tessellation that is, this
fluttering of us.
us suit of hearts.
suit of leaves.
the fusion of two bodies far beyond substantial pressure.

I have kept you too long in my heart
To the point I endured all pain and became numb
I wasn't ready to give you up
Though, I know, time will come to say goodbye

I tried so many things to forget you
I pretend I didn't care, just to show I'm strong
I pretended I don't love you anymore, to ease the pain the very least
But no matter what I do, I could still feel the pain and hurt

I found it hard to say good bye
Cause you're the one I love the most
But I have to set my feelings free
Because It's hurting so much

Blend or change, cover up or rearrange?
Act dumb or smart, old friends or part?
Explore or hide, work hard or slide?
Be yourself.

Who am I to say what can or cannot be?
Who am I to let the noise of the world carry on without my voice?
Still I have that desire to spill my emotions out of me
like a jar of marbles on a beat-up driveway.

Everything is a challenge, everything is a race.
We are all getting tired, we are going our own pace.
Now, it's our own journey, we take our own course,
Reinventing our own person, not someone else anymore.

Discovery is near, it's just around the corner. Catch it.
You are so close .

I've taken the leap, and ripped off my mask.
I just wanted to meet you, is that too much to ask?

In a society like ours we are hopelessly secluded.
People run around unhappy and overworked,
Losing sight of what makes life worth it.
We are all worth it.

Life is like a set of cracked water colors,
Experiencing the creation of beautiful art.
Though life seems like a ritual of the mundane,
and the motto "keep calm and carry on"
being, stressed, unhappy, and waiting to enjoy life.

Life is the golden sunset we all see on the horizon from time to time,
making everything beautiful.

Because everyone is hiding, looking, searching, believing,
loving, living, needing, giving, LIFE.