Unknown and KnownThe unknownis all that is ever known.But comfort isn't foundin the uncomfort.Strength isn't gainedin the pleasant.Work isn't achievedin rest.Life is messy, butThe unknowncan becomeknown.
Walk the WalkWhen your wordshave proven to bemeaninglessit's the perfect timeto have youractions shine.So save your breathand walk the walk.
All That I KnowHow do you fix somethingthat's beyond repairand when only one personis completely aware?A desire for affectionand a family of connection.These hopes and dreamsare constant themesbut walls of protectionleave me defensive.Feeling unlovedwith lies and deceptionand never being good enoughfueled this life of depression.Now here I sitwith this life I've knownbeing confused, brokenand all alone.How do I move forthwhen this isall that I know.
a picture of perfectionShe was a painting;not a Rembrant or a Da Vinci...much more vibrant than those, she wasthe fade of Monet,her quirks just shy of a Picasso portrait,and at the same time not quite shy enough.She was a Van Gogh landscape:full and bright and articulate and beautiful-but a real mess up close.Like someone forgot that when you make peoplethey're supposed to stay inside the lines.
when i rise i'll rise above youhe left me witha heart of ashand a soulpraying to bereborn -"this timemake mesomethinganythingless fragile"
GoneGoing far awayObserving the road aheadNever considering going backEnding another chapter of my story
For But a Blinkthere is little grey leftin a sky going white we are too soon to win the struggle for memory, history far too early-on to be trusted see me through me you us we found everything and lost it in the hot blurry state shift of the ember we pretended we weren'ta burning window closes and this brief mess of man is crystallized for but a blink in the snap and crash of its cr
ways we constellate/a. dictitious/iam well-woven.iam a spellthat does not releaseand never tells.these constructionsi allow,and betterawakento speak in hearttonesand hymnbeatson rugged pavements.ihave builtart./b.beautine/this body hasforgotten its infinitebeatings, denieditself the luxuryof acceptancethis body hasremembered its lovers'last names, phone numbers,birthmarks and kindnessthe only cruelty this vessel knowsis from its middlesi have riddled myself intowarmth/c.capabuilt/these handsare imbuedwith patient dynamismand ichorthat the goddessessavorthey have movedmountain rangesand hoisted dark seasoverhead,then returned themdeftlysuch instruments deserve morethan my doubtsihave cloudedthe veins tenacious/d.aitbaar/i allowed thesehands to hold me.i have yet to feellike lessthan a Dalidreammy little ashesare coming closethe Gangeslost its murkto me; i carryremainsi house brokennesstill it is perfectedkintsugi
MemoriesI would spill gasolineOn my memoriesAnd set them on fireIf it didn't implyMelting the outlinesOf my beingSpreading the atomsInto nothingnessAnd losing trackOf my existenceCrafted fromMoments
au(roar)aa shy glow of apologeticsunrises, she will neverknow how beautiful she ishis magpie eyes, they pryat her colours, leavingher with onlythe itch of dried tear tracksat 3 in the morningrough tissues scrape at herdelicate nose,strewn around her like white flowersthat he never gave to her.and he never showed herthe glow of the stars,a bond between this morning girl and the universehe could’veshe would’vethey should’ve beenentwined in dawning light, buthe was a night guard and nightis afraid of staining golden black.so she took the light caged in her heartand threw it intothe abyss of sorry’s and i love you’snever saidas the moth he was,he followed.she wanted him to catcha spark (on fire)instead, he never came back.sometimes the midnight feelswarmer than a sunrise-it guards her and between the blackshe is beautifulfinally, the emptine
Porcelain DollHello,little porcelain doll.It's terrible to see you again.It's the two of ushere in this dark roomStop analyzing me.I'm looking at your flaws tooIf I were to reach outand touch your smooth surfacewould you feel warmto me?Oh little porcelain doll,trapped in a glass boxforced to watch the worldpass you by; never sparing youa glanceThere are cracks trailingup and downyour arms and thighsWhy are you breakingyourself again?I would help to piece youback together butyou would ratherfall apart.Silly little porcelain dollCan't you see I'm damaged too?It's just the two of ushere in this lonesome room,I've got timeour relationship should improveIf I were to reach outand offer you my handwould you returnto me?My dear porcelain doll,we are far from perfectbut life and beautyis something we want to learn about.If I were to love youas you love methen do I have a chance?If I broke the glassand set you freewould you be the betterhalf of me>(though I'd r
misconceptionsand as he paces the cliffs of my ribs with hisfingers and contemplates jumping off,i leave his bruises of purple milky waysat home on my skinand push us both over theedge-hold me tighter, cause i'd rather be a bag of bleeding veinsthan nothing at all
Belt Whip WeltsA little girl at the age of 10all she knows is what shes lived.Belt whips against her back -slit 'n slash the pain welts in.Like raindrops falling downblood hits the groundin a heavenly sound.