The way the light hits, I can only see one side of your face

The sun and the moon
Numb this life just
To get through
A mask
In order to
Appease you.
How do you do?
Sit in the dark
Shed some light
Fight, fight, fight
For your life



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

StoNeY dAnCe

hazelnut flavored coffee
steaming, frothing
hands swollen and bruised.
the skin on my arms is taunt
yet, these people keep coming back for more.
and, I have no armor
or anyone to advocate for me.
IV drips drops dripping...
the stoney dance.

stoney dance in the clouds while
trying to make important decisions
and fend off the evil ones,
like dr. leon.
It keeps getting harder
to see through these glassy eyes,
so I cry...

and do my little stoney dance...



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

Hostage

Give me a little honey, honey
Sweet sugar happiness
I miss myself all the time
Who am I now that the Crohny has taken me
Hostage?
Do you know?
Even more so,
Do you know how to get me back?

I need to move on
Preferably with all the insides
I have left.
Dear Lord, I ask for your help...

I am being held hostage.



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

Wake Into The Unknown

Pseudo
False
Inhale
Experience
Exhale
The bad.
Consume
Complete
Being
The Soul
The Self
The Selflessness
I feel
Walk into the distant horizon
Wake into the unknown
Fall
Into the depth of my emotion
As I melt into this moment
Breathe
A silent breath of home.



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

Hospital Thoughts...

Every emotion that is possible to feel,
I have felt within the last 24 hours.
It can't be good for my eyes that the blue glow from the silent television is juuuuuust enough light to make out what it is I am trying to write.
I have covered myself with about 9 paper thin hospital blankets. In an attempt to keep the germs from producing more generations of germs in my room, I keep it cold. This strategy also doubles as a defense against the waves of SHEER PANIC.
Sometimes I can't 100% block out what is actually happening.
I am literally being sliced into pieces before the sunsets.
This isn't some cheesy metaphor either.
Although I might attempt to make some kind of metaphor out of all of this just to try to get through it...

To say that I am terrified, is a total pussy way of describing what is racing through my mind.
Whatever is scarier than terror, well, that's how I feel.
I keep getting flashbacks of the recovery room. Although I have NEVER recovered from that fucking room.
I just know that I have to do it. I just wish I wasn't so aware of EVERY, FUCKING, THING. Not to mention the little voice in the back of my head that is saying "What if you don't wake up?" I mean shuut up already! I have so many things that I want to do! So many things that I must do.
I HAVE TO KEEP ON LIVING!
I mean L. I. V. I. N. Liviiiien.

I say aloud...

"I will wake up. I will live. And I will be better than ever. Alright, let's get started. I'm ready."


Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

Blue T-shirt

I had a favorite blue shirt once.
I liked it so much I wore it an entire summer.
I'd wash it,
Wear it
Wear it
Wash it
It made me feel a certain way
Comfortable I guess

I think we can out grow people.
When you meet someone
And you recognize
yourself in their eyes
Connecting on another plane.
You let out your breath
Like, you can finally relax,
They get it.

We all grow as people
Trauma, trials, tribulations
Laughter that changes you at the core.
As we evolve
Some turn
To the ticking of the right hand
While others,
Others go counterclockwise.
Either way
We loose sight of who we were
We step into new footprints
With heavier or lighter feet,
In opposite directions,
We're different.

I no longer see myself in you.
I see an insecure, abusive
Fragmented red flash...

I carry with me the
Weight of several people
But I try to keep my steps light.

I'm walking away
I'm moving toward a brighter place.
Maybe alone,
But definitely with good intention.

I say goodbye to you
Old friend
With no ill will
I just can't keep wearing
The same old shirt.
I thought maybe it would
Turn out differently
But, it's OK.
Moving forward allows for
Unknown adventures
More core changing laughter
and new peeps
Along the off-beat path.



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.

Tree Poetry

Wake in the morning to a soft hand in my hair
We exchange smiles
And speak through tiny bits of laughter.
The ceiling fans moan soothes me
While I gaze out the window.
As you melt the buttons off my paisley shirt
Your passion speaks more phrases and clauses
Then we've ever actually spoken...

I make my way downstairs
And out the door for a smoke.
It smells of patchouli and camp fire
With hints of lilac sprinkled like pixie dust
In the area that closes off my heart.
I listen to the frogs chat.
They're sounding off jokes
And better poetry than I've ever written
It seems they know something that I may never grasp.
The trees become my friends
I listen to their conversation
I feel as though they're trying to tell me something
Suddenly I become flushed and extremely self-aware
"I've got to get out of here!"
Is the only thing that pounds off my skull
Like someone knocking at a locked door
I turn swiftly, yet cautiously
My eyes bounce to every angle I can see
Forming a geometrical shape I can't quite identify.
Although I've never known much about math,
I know you are the center of that geometrical gaze
And math, makes me nervous!
The door slides open
And you're standing in the kitchen
Like a giddy child with a brand new toy
I say "I'm gonna go."
You sigh.
I fiend for what will never be said by anyone,
But the trees.



Experience. Freedom. Love. Now.