mountains lay ahead
like dark seas, starless skies

the thickness of a blind fear

death's inviting hand,
its fullness of nothing

the gravel awaits the steps

no yellow brick road, no one
who'd join, for a bit, the journey

can an absence grow a heart?

cold sweaty confusion,
shallow breathing,
all details forward,
this pain,
the ambulance,
the doctor's hands,
in their faces my faith.

a brand new light,
a brand new drive,
once through it all,
if only, if only...

my eulogy....

[?]

it's okay.
we all grow
in their hearts
in their reconstructed stories.

such a waste.

should i live up
into that character,
if it's still time?

try on some words,
little girl

take a match,
check the hollow

put on those words,
silly girl

play the swan,
and its final chant

echo the words,
poor girl

dye the dark
and let go

of it all
and the words

If I were to unfold my being into the pages of a never ending book,
Would you pick it up?
If each word next to each other was in a different language,
Would you read it?
If the chapters were written out by days on my life?
Would you grasp it's concept?
If on the title it read "the Daily Thoughts of God's thought,
Would you believe in it?

What of the discussions that would arise from my pages,
Would you argue with or against me?
What of the pain I have given and the joy I have felt,
Would you cry and laugh?
What of the men and woman I have picture in bed with me,
Would you be aroused?
What of the sounds I drown the world out with,
Would you too close your eyes?

Would you read me if I were a book?
If I was sitting on the ground just three pages long?
What wonders might you find in me?