I dream that you'll carve yourself into my skin again
Rooting your essence into my flesh like a hot branding iron
The way you used to sway me with your mind
Left me breathless and out of touch
I dream that you'll sit by my side again
The pair of us stronger than any other, stronger than me
I need you to meld your bones with mine
It's urgent; I'm fading
Brittle calcium pockets exploding
I cannot stand on my own
I dream of you turning into me
The only me that can exist
The me who is not Me without You

conversations with pat turn into
an all-out battle rap
people would think we're insane, crap
I swear nick isn't a pope, what a faux cat
pat's always talking about **** and it's bat-
crap crazy but who am I to judge
sometimes life throws you in the dung-
eon and you gotta discuss it over fudge,
son listen up, be better, do better
let her borrow your sweater and then
go get her
use all your might or she'll take flight and aw
next thing you know, you're stuck with **** and
an unpopelike cat with three names and
she kept your sweater
I know this
I'm a fortune teller

Fake beef and chicken
No one will really like you
Despite condiments

blues and greens piercing me
the creased letters had me glad for quite some time
that I drew the line at sanity
I couldn't stand to see my own two legs swept out from under me.
Thunder and rain
A baby's death. a Mothers pain.

I am outside of my skin,
roaming around yours for a bit, because I saw the moon
and it was as soft as dough
it dripped life into me, but forgot the plants below.
Stone cold. Oils foe.

Perishable and measurable beyond compensation.
A complete admiration for the word, for the world,
and everything in between.
Beneath the fiends of men that withstand the bends
and the twists of fate
Deliver us to the gates of heaven
Eleven men stood where eleven men fell down to hell
Demons all, and demons only
prudence betrayed us. A famine of desire.

The baby arose to find itself now buried
Heat. Hells kitchen heat warmed its back
no mother to coo to
earth, for what nutrition it's worth gave humble life and girth
a loam child of no mother and no father

A born saint, feasting on the ashes of mount deity.
Hail thee, oh chosen one
God hath forsaken us!
Our lives of dust
are nothing by compare.

Fools, following a jealous God!
"Call out to me or be forgotten and vanquished "

No matter
a new world order is due
the lamb of the earth shall walk once more
spreading tales and wisdom of our pompous "lord"

Let us take back the earth,
let us take back our beauty.
Our ancestors are dead
Tis a new age without reason to beseech
Have love or find it
make temples that bind it
pray to love
hold the weight of a feather
and let it glide

she's like a ticking time bomb itching to detonate
cut the wrong wire and you're toast
handle her with care and slow her heart rate
or she'll scatter your pieces across the coast

he's like a wilted willow tree trying to stand tall
pull on his limbs and he'll come undone
watch his sad leaves detach and fall
abuse him until he is none

I saw myself tonight...
reflected in the hills
and as I drove home the moon lit up
the low-creeping fog like ghosts
making a spectacle of themselves
for attention from us mortals
and the streetlights turned so slow
testing my patience
it was like they were egging me on
making a mockery of my lack of
tranquility and when I
passed that one house with the pond
it's my favorite house
usually so bright and beautiful
two car garages and a variety of trucks
trampolines and pools and rich
wouldn't you know the house was shut up
even the wealthy won't look at me
and I twisted and turned down the curves
and across bridges and under branches
I thought I knew my way around
could drive this road with my eyes shut
but wouldn't you know the construction
workers were out late  
gnawing on granola and warm water
telling me, "turn around!"
like I was just supposed to know
my way home
from a new perspective
so as I reversed, over weeds and fallen
bramble and beaten, worn paths
I once again found the hills
looked deep into myself and thought,
hey
maybe life just ends up this way

I have been horribly mistaken about loss and mortality
all this time I saw people grieving, but I was immune to it
I saw grief from a distance
and in my heart I thought that grief over death was weakness
because we all die
we are all going to die
so how can we stay so sad after it arrives?
but Jesus as my witness
I was wrong
I was so wrong
and I am so thankful that I discovered this truth when I did
because life is a beautiful thing and I don't mean our experiences
or the flowers and the ocean and the mountains and raindrops
I mean how we connect with people
nothing is comparable
do you hear me?
our unique invisible strings of being get woven together
and they get tangled and messy but oh
I'm in awe! the strings become intricate pieces of artwork
invaluable,
priceless,
WHOLLY intrinsic,
completely indescribable
and we wouldn't trade them for anything
and, God, when we grieve
we may be sad
but there is absolutely nothing
NOTHING
that is more precious and sacred
than the bonds left behind from those we love
we are forever tied together beyond the rules of time
and I now realize
that I would rather grieve a thousand times over
than to never know that type of love again
I'm so sorry