"A friend who understands
your tears is much more valuable than a
lot of friends who only know your smile."

Pop rocks and wildfires
Deep drawn out comfortable silences

It’s not comfortable for some people
My juxtaposed nature breeds uncertainty

I am not subtle
I am not the in between

Waves crash and people stare in awe
Slowing to a lapping at the sand and peace settles in their bones

Can you see the good in both sides of me that way

I feel like a wildfire burning the world around her sometimes
But when I settle in I can be a gentle flame to light the night

In the end It’s all or nothing

Ride my waves and the calm is yours

I’ll sigh and warm the room around me with dreaming looks and half smiles
But be ready my dear when I want to run
Cuz I have a level of noise in my head and somedays I want to run to meet it full blast

Do you want to run with me?

The hard part is that I lost myself. In the midst of life happening all around me, I lost the ability to be okay, I lost the ability to trust. I lost the ability to love myself, and when that happens, you lose everything. And when the one person in the entire world who loves you unconditionally is gone, then you start wondering who will love you? And then when you start wondering, you get scared that you have to even ask that question. But since you have already asked yourself that, you can’t ignore it. Who will love you now? Who could possibly love everything about you, now that the only person in the world who could, is gone? Hell, you don’t even love yourself. Why would someone else? And then when you realize that, the relationship you’re in seems pointless. Because you start believing that they won’t ever be able to withstand your problems and craziness. And then that snowballs to even more insecurities and fear, and you feel trapped in this broken body that can’t ever be healed. And then you feel lost, torn, broken, unfixable, damaged, and like nothing in the entire world could ever possibly be okay again. Because you know from the past, that even when everything seems okay, another devastating blow comes around again and knocks you back down. So you feel even smaller, even weaker. By that point you’re at the bottom, you’re looking up in tears, ready to scream for help. But you’re not sure who’s going to be there, and if the person who does show up, is going to be the person you need, the person who’s going to pick you up and help you heal. And then you realize again, that you lost yourself. That in the midst of life happening all around you, you lost the ability to be okay.

She is sacred,
but safe
from a distance.

I can admire
the form
I desire
and listen
to her stories
without risking
the sharp scythe
of rejection tonight.

I can share
the softened
version
of my
affections,
expose my
true self
and never fear
the loss of will
cause she is
a thousand miles away
and promised to another.

The woods felt peaceful
Alas, they hung in a rhythm
we breathe
The trees swayed high above
Mighty silhouettes
calling down to me.

My eyes traced
the streaks in the sky
From eastern pink
to the blaze in the west
Earth was blushing rosy cotton
Fierce in her burnt sienna dress.

Earth was me
swirling with the elements
Wind was me
finding the love in the twist
Wells were the arms of melancholy
Fire was the heat
erupting from my chest.

the mindless bog
monster of dreams
eternal as hope

Burn this fabric
the weave of the grandest way
we wrap our secret selves in
and write little patterns
that somehow pushes apart
from the comfort of speech
to break the truth
into lie-able bits
that everyone can approve of
because they are pretty
then you will be hollow
with the desire
to tug on the dangling strings
that always itch
the nose of conscience
to be rid of the ******
the mold you have been force in
and you will unravel when it hurts
and you will unravel when it is quiet
you will become bare
just shape
just like everything else
and when you find
peace in your own decimation
a single flower will grow
behind your lifes eye
a memory of when you took root
in the self
a lense to see your life
as you mean to live it

It sure is such a rarity
To have any kind of clarity
In this pall we’re covered with - no verity
Grey is not lit with any prosperity
Only shroud covered lands all in a form of familiarity
Knowing what is covered, but cannot see it’s true identity
Shadows cast through the day of skies so cloudy
A wet mist reminds - there is no remedy
Sunshine does not peek or wink through an atmosphere so gloomy
Dark grey grows over the land walked by one in singularity
Unfortunately, having clarity is such a rarity, a sad insincerity..