It's winter again.

Bustling malls
and second thought decisions
lead to some coffee comfort in the cold.

Whipped cream
and twelve strings
keep us mesmerized as the wind blows.

Lucky lasts
and cracked windows
as we sing our renditions to the sky.

The sun sets
before the good day is over
the dark will hold smiles.

All the pieces
fit perfectly in place.
These people; perfection and stories.

The cold this year
doesn't seem so harsh
and not so long as before.

We aim to live.
We seek to exist in a greater capacity.

Shed our blood and cry our tears.
**** **** ****.
Lie and steal.
Love and lose.
Betray and keep our selves.

How far we go to say we are alive.
Dig dig dig.
Energy from what we claim as our own.
Friends and lovers to make the steam.

When we are high:
Yell and shout
proclaim and promise
give give give.
My structure is yours.

When we are deep:
Yell and shout
withdraw and dodge
take.
At least I've only lost myself.

How many head for the heavens?
How many survive the lack of air
the awe of epiphany
the fall to crushing ground.

How many stay rooted?
How many survive the nagging thoughts
the what could haves
the weight of compressing regret.

Look at how far we go to say we are alive.

I love you
and you love me.

But I love like thunder and lightning
and you love like the calm before the storm.

You are waiting for the call
and I yell to you once you’re already gone.

The rain wears on
your limestone skin
as umbrellas are held
off your center by granite others.

I extend a hand
as if you weren't 20 miles deep.
Advertise a cure
and deliver smoke to gasping lungs under the guise.

In this tenebrific atmosphere
I claim to be brave while clinging to my torch.
Endless succorance performed
and answers given from behind glass and across telephone lines.

I only know of the place
where the pace is kept
to the time of constant mizzle.
Perhaps I could spot it on a map, from far away.

How is one in the Fourth
to help another in the Third?
Folly to believe I could stop the bleeding.
Laughable when the scarless comment on how to suture.

I want to be deep in the woods
and lay you down in the greenest depths
that hold quiet for now.
But soon calls, cries, and roars
will determine this territory ours.

The forest is not an easy place
for the mere humans we are in this instant
to establish. But our fervor is unmatched.
Crushed leaves and shattered limbs
speak testament to our deeds.

The clouds close the sky
but neither lightning or thunder
dare approach us here
for how could simple light and noise
hope to stand against this force of nature.

Rain pours from unreachable heights
as if it were to quench the heat;
as if it fears for the trees and soil.
We will not be abated yet
our geminated critical mass, relentless.

In the end the skies have had enough
and the earth is cool again.
Stars on your sighing released skin
and the moonlight plays on mine.
Deep in the forest green, the outside world unseen.

He is only 10 he should
be crying beacuse he
feel down,not beacuse
someone called him a ***.

She's only 12,she
should be playing with
makeup,not razors..

He's only 14  he should be  out with his freinds,
not tying ropes...

She's only 16, she
should be out on dates,
not staraving herself...

They were all 18, they
should have been
celebrating graduation,
not a furneral...