It is in the darkness of life in which I reside
In the hollows of death in which I confide

They lay to me a ear for listening
They pay no heed to the sins above my head
They do not dangle my past, consuming me with dread
They do not test my anger, turning page by page
And when the time comes they take me away
ever so silently, I have no dismay
There is no laughter, no sorrow, no fear

Eyes open staring at this body of mine, there is
not a single tear.
They stick by me as my heart reaches my throat.
They listen to these sobs of mine, pressing
close like ghosts.
They hold me as I cry, rocking back and forth
A chill runs through me, and they tense as I
scream
Afraid of what may seem to be a dreadful dream
Their cold arms reach, consuming my warmth
I lay cold on stone, wishing to disappear
There is no place to run, that is very clear.

For It is in the darkness of life in which I reside
In the hollows of death in which I confide.
It is not a choice to whose I may be
I am already taken, never to be free.

You're a fairy-tale, a story broken in two.
Forgotten, lost; like Hansel and Gretel
looking for bread crumbs in the cue.
I’ll pick you up, and dust you off the old wooden shelves
I’ll heal you
I’ll hold your hand and walk the woods with you.
I’ll find you in the candy house
defeat the witch for you.
I’ll rebind you, open your doors
and never let the fire burn you.
I’ll coat you in plastic, you’ll be like new.
My fairy-tale.
Everything I ever wanted was you.

__________________

I am a stunning purple bird
with burning orange wings.
I am the wind beneath my feet
dancing as I sing.
I am the river bed
as it follows the stream.
I am the tree
standing tall, majestic and free
I am the bird as it whistles
stories of new and old.
I am the legend as it sinks
into the tellings of folklore
How more can I describe the soul that belongs
to this human shape in which I reside?
I am what I am
A stunning purple bird
with burning orange wings

__________________

They cannot accept you for who you are 

We are all of us in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars¹.

Time to start anew, time to start anew, the story of every farce. Dreaming of tall buildings; paving roads on mars. It’s a whole new world up there where the sunshine meets life, where the moons embrace the stars. Staring at the sky, wonder if you’ll ever get that high. Growing wings is not an option; you feel your light will die from the despair. Every day is a journey, every step a lifetime. Maybe if you push a little harder, cry a little softer, yell a little louder the world might stop from crashing down as it tends to. Maybe if you

Dream Big

Hope Hard

Love Enough

Out of the gutter you can come into the light out of the strife. We may all be in the gutter but some of us make it to the stars. Some of us know there’s more to life than condos and big cars. Some of us hold real love at heart, friendship in sight, willingly hurtle into the abyss mid-flight.

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