The first step is
Radical honesty
With ourselves

We don't intervene
We invade

That's not
"Collateral damage"
Those are
The corpses
Of children
And their parents

Ours is not defense
Ours is war

Loquacious people love to spill
Plump secrets they’re too vain to keep.  
To tell tremendous news can reap
Friends whom novelty alone can thrill.  
The truth is common property,
And independently abides,
While forgettings are all pseudocides,
And neglectful parents can’t agree.  
Whoever lies confers a gift
Devising falsehoods just for you.  
Facts thrive where thistles never grew.  
Don’t give what anyone can lift.  
In legend consumed bread regrows
To feed a nation from one loaf.  
Truths regenerate, so any oaf
Can pluck a common, banal rose.  
Truth-tellers safely can forget,
Because some checking resupplies.
Not so with lonely, fragile lies,
Whoever lies must ever fret.  
Glib, easy tongues who scatter facts
Have given every anyone
A tale regifted they’ve not spun.  
Lies are what imagining enacts.  
The stringent claim that facts are few
While falsehoods sprout in multitudes
But where the robust truth intrudes
Mendacity’s scorched residue.  
The truth is a replenished ore
Dug from an open, shallow mine.  
Lies are a moon-grown eglantine
Or stories from a private lore.  
Facts are devalued minted lead,
Coins of a debased currency,
But lies are golden filigree
Which melts wherever sunlight’s spread.

If I was to write
A verse or two
Just for you
It would have to start

Your heart is
As pure
As the Mountain Dew
Filled with so much joy
Devotion would be
the best word served
For our home and family
And of course
our little boy

With everything
We have been through
Pink and blue
You’ve always stayed
Strong and true

If I was to give to you
What you have given us
It would be a lifetime’s worth
Of angels dust

last night i told you all the spiralling thoughts i had Tuesday night,
all the crying and feelings of weakness and helplessness,
the thoughts of not being good enough, self-harm, and so much more.

you cried and held me tight.
i felt numb, but i felt bad that i made you cry.
that vulnerability and knowing that you really see me makes me uncomfortable.
it makes me wonder how you could possibly love me if you truly see me,
because how i see me, i don't see how that's possible.
but nonetheless, somehow you do,
which i know is a testament of God's love and work through you,
but i don't understand it.

Where do I go
how do I start
what do I do
with this broken heart

I feel so alone
like an empty city
a broken bone
full of gilt and pity

I often wonder
if you felt the same
I’m still here
me and my shame

There is no fire
without any flame
clouds turn to thunder
its only me who’s to blame

Look around and tell me, who’s happy?
Isn’t happiness the goal above all?
Or rather to avoid feeling sorry
For ******* away the springtime in spite of the fall?

in my words i give my heart
but my heart can't be erased
i can't take out the question marks
and put periods in their place

in my words i give my side
to the story that i relate
in these lines i will confide
and try to tell it straight

in my words i give my soul
how my soul has been misplaced
i can only speak of what i know
and everything i have faced

in my words i give my heart
but my heart can't be erased
i can't take out the periods
and put commas in their place