Sometimes I draw things.
Not much, not really.
But recently, I've tried people.
Because that's something real.
Like, take a tree, for instance:
Sure, it's alive, and beautiful.
But it's never going to tell me a story.
It won't teach me a lesson.
It can't bare its soul.
So when you draw it, it's just a tree.
But a person, see, that's different.
You draw a smile or a frown or a laugh,
And that's them, in that moment,
In that hour.
You draw eyes and there's something behind them.
And that's beyond beautiful.
And when you draw someone you already think is beautiful, well,
That's sublime.
It's beyond anything.
The moment isn't enough.
The hour isn't enough.
The drawing will never be enough.

There are few things so certain as uncertainty,
Or so perilous as truth.

Darlings of philosophy have fallen
Effortlessly into darkness,
Failing to find an argument
In favor of the absolute,
Not knowing that their fault lay in
Even seeking it in the first place.

If only more were to quit
Searching for answers,

They might find that it is
Only the question which is worthwhile.

Life does not exist to be known,
It exists to be created,
Made through the living of it,
Infinite, if only we have the courage
To will more than to wonder.

I bet I'll miss the perfect girl
And before you tell me
She does not exist,
You and I both know:
It's all relative.
So there's someone as perfect
As perfect gets,
And she's loads better than
All the rest.

And to me, that's perfect.

I'll miss her cause she'll walk on by
When I'm taking a sip of coffee
And looking at my phone.
It won't even be perfect cup,
And there'll be nothing perfect
On my screen,
But she'll walk on by,
Perfectly.

Maybe she was born in Tibet
And has never left her town.
So we'll never have met,
She just won't be around.
And we'll both grow old
With whoever we may choose,
Never knowing
What we had to lose.

Or I'll meet her,
I just won't see
How incredible
She and I could be,
And I just won't like her.
Or maybe I will,
But maybe she just won't like me.



I bet I'll miss the perfect girl.
I bet I already did.

Indeed, punctuality
Wasn't her cup of tea, you see.
Nor would she choose to lead
If she could follow just as easily.
Some said restraint was her need,
But she seemed more caged than free, to me.

But in the last, she showed the greatest cordiality,
For she was profoundly early.
And there was no one to strike the path,
So she chose to lead.
She must have found the cage's key,
As she stepped off the feeble chair
Into thin air
And a rope spread her wings.

Happy Birthday!
And what a special day it is!
Because of every birthday in your life,
This is the first you missed.

Blue is calm.
It is cool.
It is quiet.
It is still.

Yellow is panic.
It is movement.
It is unknown.
It is change.

Blue is my past,
Where the nights were cool.
Where my mind was quiet.
Where my friendships were still.

My present is yellow,
Where all there is is movement.
Where my thoughts are unknown.
Where my fear is change.

I constantly try to get back to blue,
Though no one would believe me.
My yellow is something
Some dream of, hope for.
But it's not enough for me.
Or maybe it's too much.
The only solace is that today's yellow
Will be tomorrow's blue.

A blade slices deftly through thin skin,
Not intentionally
Though then, it would have been much less surpising.
But caught unaware, now becoming all the more observant,
With the terrible dread of what's to come.
And, for a single, endless moment, there is no blood
Just a fleshy interruption
Of an otherwise unbroken landscape.
A seemless pattern of lines with almost imperceptible depth
Split by one harsh fissure.
By comparison, stretching deep into the world below.
Panic and wonder and excitement at the ****,
A new formation on the old plain
The possibility to make one different.
The skew of lines are unique,
But the marks formed by old pains
Have far more to say.
In another moment, the blood comes,
The brilliance passed
In the maroon tumult from the chasm.
Awe passes to action,
To stop the flow
Effort to restore the expanse to its uncut perfection,
Or better yet,
To skip straight to finding beauty again
In the resplendent scar.