Cut me into a nice new groove,
how are your socks?
how are your shoes?

You fall through thoughts as a lonely dove does.

Much like the rose that was not red
or the dog that never wants to be fed.

Finding anicent springs of hold land beauty.

These places succumb to a mind only so bold
take out my hands, they're yours to hold.

I’ve been chastised for writing poetry that was too angry.
I guess there is a lot of red in the world already,
why not spread some pleasant lilacs and a checked picnic blanket
and sit down for a while?
Why not quit thinking?
For just a moment?
Quit forcing the words to fall from our lips and
quit trying to speak over our friend,
Silence.
They have a lot to say.
Why not let them talk a minute?
Close our eyes.
Listen, smile, and nod.
No need to answer.
The quiet can tell when we’re paying attention,
and it meets us halfway with serenity.

I know all that emptiness
where the noise used to be
can get scary.
I know that all too well.
But it isn’t the Silence that tries to tear us apart.
They want to wrap us up in blankets of soft evening clouds
and remind us that not all is yet lost.

Look at me.
Let that sink in.
Not all is yet lost.

I close my eyes to catch sleep
But sleep's already caught me.
I looked too weak, too dumb to keep
I was thrown where no one can see.
My heart started pounding
My face seemed to just go.
My veins, from the way they were sounding
Had too much blood to flow.
The sun melted to black
Skies exploded with pitch
To all, I turned my back
My wounds, I would never stitch.
Monsters haunted the streets
Biting from front and from behind.
I jumped up from beneath the sheets
And no monsters, did I find.
I sighed with relief, waking up
Scanning the place around.
But the pain would never stop
Reality's harder, I found.
I'm tired, oh and way beyond
I'm done with misery and hope.
To the blade, I've grown quite fond
But my next friend would be the rope.