Insults travel trough generations.
They embed themselves in our minds,
Echoing the same phrase:
"You are nothing."

Somehow the phantom voices
Hurt more than the bruises across our cheeks
Because the purple and blue fades over time.

Sticks and stones may break my bones
But at least they heal.
Words are harder to forgive.

Just because the sun rises,
doesn't mean it's a warm day.

Just because I smile,
doesn't mean my heart feels that way.

I tried to show you the stars
but all you saw was black sky.

I tried to lift you up
but all you noticed was how far you had to fall.

I tried to sing to you
but all you heard was the silence between words.

I tried to give you warmth
but all you felt was the itch of my sweater.

You're far too aware,
yet so very blind.

When I was little
And the hot world outside my house
Was blessed with summer rain
I’d stare outside and be lost
In a world only I could see.
As I met others I found
That this place of collective consciousness spiritus mundi
Was shared by others
Beautiful tapestries of adventure awaiting just around the corner
Shared time and time again.
But time is the passage to the great equalizer to the end
And fireflies that shimmered behind our glowing eyes
Dimmed as the calls of Neverland and lost boys faded
So playtime was replaced with homework
And toys with video games
And imagination became madness.
So when I tried to exit reality in my early teens
(When I was younger
I’d be lifted by an angel into the starry night sky
And see the Earth illuminated
By spiral staircases made of rainbows
Leading the dead to Heaven
Where I’d meet God on their coffee break
For wisdom and advice on staying alive)

The state of Massachusetts sentenced to me to a hospital for my brain
And I decided it was a bad idea to confide in my psychiatrist
That the wind spoke to me
And told me the secrets of the world.
Beyond the brightly colored pills
That are washed down my throat
I look for an answer to madness
Amongst the hundred voices in my head
And auditory fever dream
Hallucination delusions of hearing my name.
The answer is always the same.
Stable sanity is serenity
Imagination is devoid of practicality
The lone child in the back of the classroom
Staring out the window daydreaming,
Will be the first in the unemployment line.
Are we human beings or trees
Being fed on a steady steam
Of halogen and pixels
Recirculated air
And to others who work at computers replace the use
Of that landscape of infinite possibility.
So I’m left to ask…
(When you wake up from a dream
Where someone loved you
You don’t remember their name
Or maybe even their face
But you’ll remember the ghost of their touch
On your skin
The warmth of their body
Pressed against yours
And whispers in your ear
Of things you never hear while you’re awake)
How can you prefer reality
When all that you ever wanted
Is just a moment away
Past the darkness when you close your eyes.
And embrace that you’ll be lead
Behind the white door
Leading to the white room with padded walls
Labeled madness?

Don’t just take a walk in my shoes. Become my feet.