Breathe.

Settle yourself.

Try to understand.

We were meant to love.

And if we can not love, then we were meant to try to love.

And failing that we were made to breathe.

And try again.



-Sean Critchfield

I remember reading your last letter
You told me your life felt different, you didn't know who you were anymore
You said the clouds didn't remind you of serenity anymore
You said the ocean didn't speak to you the way it used to
You said the coffee was more bitter than it used to be
You said my eyes looked different and you didn't like how that made you feel
You said I took you for granted, which is probably true
But oh God, when you left you took me with you...
I hate looking at myself in the mirror now, because I now see how much uglier I look without your arms around my waist
I hate waking up because it's another day I woke up without waking up to you.
Now all coffee tastes the same. It all tastes like your lips in the morning.
I go to sleep and pray that if there is a God, could (s)he take me to you.

But the truth is that even though you're gone I still feel like you're here.
I drive past our coffee shop and you're there.
I do math homework (your favorite subject) and you're there
I talk to your other friends and you're there.
I saw your mom at the grocery store and oh God there was so much of you in her. (or maybe vice versa)
Honestly I'm falling apart every single day. Every day.

I miss your jokes so much.
I miss how you'd get mad when I asked you to  repeat things.
I miss you making fun of me.

But now these walls are closing me in and I need to get out before I'm stuck in this black hole of my thoughts of you.
Stop suffocating me.
Stay away.
Because every time I hear our song it feels like I lost you again.
And I keep seeing you in my sleep.
This is the last time I will write you.
Let me move on.

There is beauty in our souls and love in his eyes
But there is no beauty in the destruction that grows like a **** from my finger tips, my eyes are dull and empty and you are gonna taste blood
The beaten love me made feels like shards of glass in my toes, there is no beauty in our bed
There is no beauty in the deafening silence, no care in your finger tips, you pound out words made to cut
My vision goes dark and I let fear swallow me, I will go out the same way I came in: screaming in joy and fear and confusion with archaic song in my heart.  There is no beauty in a young casket

Touch of Breath

You breathe life,
The simple sweet words you had me speak
In time it grew,
Into the solace and peace I needed.

So sweet the sound.
Heart to ear,
Heart to me,
Later I found your heart in me

Lovely is the notion
Thoughts of you,
Acts for you,
My heart beat with you

A moment enough,
Touch of breath.
That moment,
I felt my heart beat in you

                           -Vas Bismark

We leave the melancholy behind,
Brave into the new lands.
I'm a stranger in my own land
I race with the wild winds of the monks.
My beast thumps, gasps and leaps.
Roaring mechanics of the modern world they say.

A thousand eyes staring upon us,
Monks become our mothers, and mules our guides.
The brave hearted fear, as the terror is sheer.
The thin air threatens us,
The sight of a canvas brings warmth to heart, beast finally rests.

I'm far away from home, we're a thousand miles apart.
To be lost is a joy of different kind, to be forgotten is just a thought in mind.
The glimpse of the golden crested peak is a blessing in disguise,
Then my heart stops to confess I'm homesick.