let's say i was a puzzle.i was blindbut still i saw the galaxies in your eyesand the lines around your perfect lips;footprints of smiles and frowns.i was numbbut felt your hands touch my faceand my heartthump against my ribsand my ribs against my chestfrom the forceof every artery awake and pulsingbecause you made mefeel alive.i was lonely,a photo album of pain and broken heartsleft to collect dust in the atticbut you moved into the houseand treasured everything leftwithin.i was damagedand you didn't careor runaway for someonebetter,you stayed and made a new imagefrom all the scattered pieces.
i'd rather not.you don't even realizei'm holding on to my hopesof you,but i'll let you goall the same.
i've only ever wanted daisies.please don't fearthe blood stained across yourhands;it's from my heart,the one you didn't meanto takeand i had no choicebut to give.if you don't want iti wouldn't blame you,there's really not much bloodleft for itto bleed.
i love you.i build casketsfor my flowers when they dieand bury them beneath theirpeersand watch the dirt turn to mudwith all the rain;i could plant morebut i've swallowed all theseedsbecause i need a garden in my soulto attract you,the perpetual botanist.pick all the daises and frame the petalsif you'd likeany way for any part of meto be close to any partof you.water mewith your voice and perfect handsso that i won't die;take better care of methan i did to the flowerssomeone else leftin my care.
tell my fears i love them.i poured nearly boiling waterinto the canals of my veins;Venice on fire.the tourists will burnthe natives won't give a damn.the cuts on my skin will never close;age doesn't heal.hold me while i'm still warmbefore the water coolsand we have to put this freezing bloodback into the rivers.the fire burns your fingers;let your body smother the flamesand i'll smolder.open the icebox and lay on the floorwith mewhile my neighbors run their heatand warm showersswim with me in the overflowing sink.the windows are coldand shiver as i tremble;i'm a skeleton with hollow bonesin an earth-quaking hourglass.sweaters can't warm my skin,you're hesitant;i've no skin to give.the water will evaporate one day;my hands are cold forever.
lilac injections.there is air but i cannot breathemy skin is cold and getting colder,turning gray.dust falls in my hair and tickles the linesever forming on my face;middle age stroking my jawas someone else somewhere elseblows out my eighteenth birthdaycandles.i can hear hurricanes and storms outside,feel the thunder resonate in my bonesbut i can only see the lighteningas it flashes on the walls,creeping beneath the doorlighting the hollow faces around mefor an instant.elbows touching and shoulders vying for space;your closet is overcrowded and i'm too shyto get to knowthe other skeletons.
barely.there's an empty parking lotoutside the abandoned hospitalwhere i was bornand where i spent my childhood hooked to machinesbecause my lungs were messed upbefore the cigarettesand where i had neck surgeryin third grade,where i climbed onto the roofwhen i was 15with my bestfriendand shouted at the tops of our lungsthat we weren't afraid to die;the whiteness of his hospital gownmatched the lining of his casket.when my mother overdosedthere was a woman with Alzheimer's across the halland she thought i was her sonwho was shot in Anzio at just barely eighteen;when she was dying i pretended to beso she could die with him.flowers perished therealmost as much a patients and balloonspolluted the surrounding air.there's no cars in the parking lot,no lights in the windows or beeping heartsin the halls;i sit in the centeron the wet concretefor hours.what happens to all the ghostswhen there's no people left to haunt?
the wine bottles have drowned in the sink.he loved melike he lovedhimself;i've never met someonewho hated themselvesso much.
lotus.wake meor don'tit doesn't mattereither wayto you or me or him or her or themor the flowers dyingbeneath my windowi'll dream or not,just rest within the darknessbehind my eyelidslet the spiders crawl across my skinand cast their webs in the cavesof my collarbonespool water into my lungsand build a pond for koi fishthat slither through my throat like serpentswhen i try to talkin my sleepbut mummer only incoherent wisps of dandelionfeathersthat evaporate in the rainthrashing outside the doorleave me like a ship washed up onshore;graves within my souland souls within my veinsghosts pumping through my heartput a rose in my hands and let the thorns prick my thumbi'll bleed until my skin is violetand the bags beneath my eyes are graythe walls will hug me years from nowwhen this room has fallen inand all my books have flown awayto nest in sparrow bedsthey'll save themselvesand the batteries in the clockhave died.
PastRevoke your “was”–Consign me not to “had” and “did”But rather “does.”I contain the infinite–”Contain,” not “contained”–And speak, soak, suffer, sitIn tongues newly-born that strainAfter mine and sense that my“Lives,” “breathes,” “dies,” “loves”Expand into multitudes greater than“Was.”
A Little MoreSmile a little wider.Love a little deeper.Just because it costs lessDoesn't mean it's cheaper.Hug a little harder.Sing a little louder.Hold on to some confidenceAnd feel a little prouder.Snuggle a little closer.Kiss a little longer.Know that people careAnd others can make you stronger.Laugh a little louder.Be just a little happier.Every mark you make in lifeCan will last forever after.
DownfallAnd in this dark harvest of seasonMy life has completely lost reason,For which or against to decide.All lost in a savage and endless, bleak tideIn sadness and in kindnessIn light and in darkness.In a boat made of hopeI shall sail to tomorrow,In a winding hurricaneMade of treachery and sorrow.There's a spear, endless, and colossal spear...Piercing, slashing though my head.Starting somewhere in heaven,Ending somewhere in hell.Fighting, burning, crying, crashing.Are the armies within.In my head they are all thrashing.On the heaven's and hell's whim.To be light or to be darkness.A perpetual array.It's not merely my choice,But the choice of the way.It's an option of the voice,It's a thin line of gray.Is it a choice forced by fate,Is it a pre-set time and date?Or a choice to which I myself sway?But here's our story anyway
."Nothing that I do will matter.As all things will merely shatter!"All my hopes thus darkness scatter,As it shoves me a decree.As it si
Is It Love?If I hugged you,would you never let go?If I kissed you,would you cherish that moment?If I reached for your hand,would you take mine gently?If I needed a shoulder,would you let me cry on yours?If I needed to talk,would you really listen?If I needed to scream,would you do it with me?If I needed to go,would you come with me?If I fell for you,would you catch me?or just let me hit the pavement?
The DonorThe Doner 7/27/15I've had a good life.I have no regrets.It's time for me to die.What will be my legacy?These are things I wonder.How will I be remembered?Who will mourn me?Have I done enough?Did I appreciate the air I breathe?So I made a decision.A choice of the heart.When I die I will donateparts of me.Parts I hold dear.If in the future I can be helpfulto someone who is without - that willbe my purpose.My corneas, which helped me view beautyand ugliness in this world.I will give to someone who can't see.Maybe they have been blind all theirlife or maybe it's new and it kills them.If I can give them a glimpse of whatI saw then I will die with a grin on my face.My lungs ( although I had asthma and sufferedoccasionally when I was young ) couldbreathe new life into a child ora person with emphysema.Maybe they will be thankful for a second chance.And finally my heart. Which now beats fasterknowing my fate. I don't wish to die.But the cancer is coursing throug
Training?Training Is For Dogs,Human Needs Teaching.
Snow Angels.Wings spreadWideAll ready toFlyBut you can never reach theSky.Your soul isFrozenMade ofIceYou are anAngelChained to theGround.