I sit at I home trying to get my **** together
I am out in the public trying to show that
I have my **** together
Some days I have my **** together better than others
Some days anxiety floods my brain
with thoughts that
swishes swashes and sway
in random unpredictable directions
These days when my **** isn't together
I walk in public faking the best laugh and smile
Happiness is a decision
but my happy is an empty piggy bank
that broke before it was even used

his fingertips as wild sparklers
his palms, wads of soft cotton
and the plateaus of his toiled finger beds
so his grasps -- stray, muddled, unintended
like paint swashes glazing my frigid worn skin
realeasing undue quivers down my delicate chine

I penned a pen bent out of my mind
asylum I seek, and of fetid dreams I reek
silence dreaded, but it seems it's all she can speak..

should have taken my time, but padded cells
they shook us to the core; in our loneliness
we held each other in embrace like no-one
has ever been held before; today I awoke
dizzy; confused, and admitted to another shore
one that swashes in pain; like an ocean of glass
and with each break, her memory shreds my heart like an open sore.

so I slowly begin to wash away the pain,
disaster being; my mind isn't even mine,
and it's always been that way;
even before I realized sanity was just a game
but in the grind of life,
it's a hellish reminder to not have been born very sane.

profusely I beg, and plead; but it's as plain as day,
she's never coming back; so slack, and bleed, and cut as we may;
administer the habitual as I plead and pray--
not to cut too deep; because this life
it's already taken most of me away.

~



And so it goes…
another sun, another day

Lost to the horizon’s constant appetite
for all that this sky above may hold
Thin and straight, never-ending, swallowing the beauty
that waits for us as we look up
only to follow the minutes
ticking away as fast as the journey

I have come to determine
one night sitting on the front porch
counting fireflies and missing you,
(tearing up for my impending daily loss)
that this place, this narrow slice at the end of this earth
must surely consist of multi-colored liquid

For the splash made by the sun
is more vibrant than anything I have ever witnessed
Staining the western heavens
with pastel swashes of glowing patterns
until the wash fills with shade and is
hidden by a new moon glow

and so it goes
another moon, another night…without you

~



And so it goes…
another sun, another day

Lost to the horizon’s constant appetite
for all that this sky above may hold
Thin and straight, never-ending, swallowing the beauty
that waits for us as we look up
only to follow the minutes
ticking away as fast as the journey

I have come to determine
one night sitting on the front porch
counting fireflies and missing you,
(tearing up for my impending daily loss)
that this place, this narrow slice at the end of this earth
must surely consist of multi-colored liquid

For the splash made by the sun
is more vibrant than anything I have ever witnessed
Staining the western heavens
with pastel swashes of glowing patterns
until the wash fills with shade and is
hidden by a new moon glow

and so it goes
another moon, another night…without you

Life is like a stream of gushing waters.
Yeah even a river that flows ceaselessly..
The waves swashes the waters,
and it is tossed
thro and fro,
yes even in an unperiodic manner.
The river of life never allows rest,
it has a lot to keep all occupied.