She reads
                                          And she sleeps
                                                      Way too much
                                                            ­           It's her coping defence
                                                                ­               When nothing else will suffice
                                                         ­               She needs to get away
                                                       Without actually leaving
                                             Because she's too scared
                                   And too tired
                                            To leave her bed
                                                      So she cracks open a book
                                                            ­     To escape somewhere far away
                                                            ­             And she'll sob for the characters
                                                      ­                       Whose brokenness resembles hers
                                                            ­                                   And then she'll sleep
                                                           ­                                   And have sweet dreams
                                                          ­              Of realities that are not her own
                                                       Because pretending is so much easier
                                                 Than facing reality
                             So she'll sleep and dream
          And secretly wish she won't wake up
So she can finally escape

The ones thought lost never go away
find in you a place anchor and stay
on a rainy evening such as this
they come to your mind plant there a wish.

The girl you loved but never got to tie
you thought you lost when the years went by
comes back to you with the dust laden ring
her finger still unwarm on this rainy evening.

As the rain pours in the streetlight's glow
you regret if only you hadn't let her go
wish her to come back by a magic happening
redraft torn pages on this rainy evening.

Your side of the window can't rub off the cold
of the void in you left for her face never old
you madly ask could give anything to find
if on this rainy evening you come once in her mind.

My soul covet nay diamond and jasper,
Which can be stolen or lost altogether;
Neither seek you the fleeting treasures
Of the world with their misty pleasures.

My heart desire not cars nor mansions
Alone in this earth full of constant frictions;
Neither pant you after momentary majesty,
Rejoicing in an ebbing estate of excellency

For moths and worms shall consume apace
At death, this body, and its glamour face.
You cannot the devil confront with riches:
Job would have won cheaply his challenges.

But seek ye rather first the spiritual gifts--
Coveting earnestly heaven's endowments:
For life's purposes are by them established;
Without them dreams cannot be fulfilled.

I lay here, paralyzed,
under the vibrant evening sky.
Clouds float on by,
this, I've never seen.

Such beauty before me,
I've only heard of in stories.
It's mesmerizing to see,
almost unbelievable.

What's inconceivable to me,
is that we're the only ones here.
There must be more out there,
in each tear in the space time continuum.

Birds fly overhead,
singing songs to the dead.
Some words are better unsaid,
her bed will be empty tonight.

Night slowly approaches,
as darkness encroaches the light,
the sunsets on another day.
Paralyzed, I close my eyes,
as I lay outside my shattered car,
only a few feet away.

Silence has opened it's mouth,
I unfold before it,
Strands come undone,
The story of a man gets swallowed,
The strength of my youth falls with the wind,
A veil takes the stars from me

A descending on parole
From the prison of misery
To the tragedy of creativity

If this life is false
then what is truly real
all these painful emotions
or this love that I feel
if we're not truly writers
then can we find our voice
if this life we know
it was never really our choice
and if what we know
is all just lies
then why do we
cover our eyes
if we're not dreaming
then we're not living
and then who am I
to tell you
another lie...