You looked at me
and I looked at you
and that's exactly what happened.

she was like
        a wilting flower
drained of all things
that kept the others upright

he was like
        a rushing brook
who saw her crumpled and tired,
crowded by overgrown weeds,
and wanted nothing more
than to clear the earth around her
and see her bloom again

so he took all he had
        and poured it into her
and when finally the pinkness
had returned to her cheeks
        she looked back at him
        and saw that

he was now like
        a withering shrub
frail and planted in dry clay

and despite the deep conviction
she had in her heart to restore him
        like he had restored her
all of her best efforts
left her with with exposed roots
and dirt beneath her fingernails

he wouldn’t let her stay
        to continue to try
        to quench his thirst
so she left him with a watering can
and promised he’d soon find relief

Emotional train wreck.
That term best describes the mess of emotional nerves that is me.
One minute I am calm, flowing through life as graceful as a leaf gliding on an autumn breeze.
But in a sudden blink of the eye I become a train wreck.

I am careening off the tracks of my life.
The impending crash brings on the pessimism of my disease.
Anger, depression, and grief all these emotions fill me as the train comes to the break in the tracks.

And suddenly without any hint of salvation the brakes are pulled into action.
Calm fills me once again and I am at peace; happiness showing on my face, I am relieved for a moment that the ride is finally over.
I have a moment’s time to compose myself before the ride begins once more.
There are never any malfunctions on this ride.
I will always be stuck on this never ending train ride.

I am a fighter.
I will not go quietly.
You will hear my voice.

I can't believe you are here now,
Reading my verses.
You, Writer, who looks skeptically at anything
Which doesn't come from you.
You, Writer, who can appreciate only the words
That come from your own pen
Or from the pen of the dead.
While you adore corpses
Your brothers and sisters
Stay here
Unreaded,
Despised
For you
And for me,
Because I am not better than you.
But maybe together
We can be better
And give to ours friends
More than merely "likes"
In theirs shortest verses,
Because is what our lazyness
Allowed is to read.
Maybe together we can strength
Our verses
Our hearts
And-hour by hour-
All the world.