poetry, or something

Smile like Trust
Listen Blind
Explore God
Know Peace
Dance Always
Wear Joy
Eat Pie
Drink Coffee
Miss Blue Eyes
Breathe Deep

Remember Freedom as a Prisoner does
Let Desire Flow
Give into Poetry
The Procelain Face
Broken, Shallow
Women
Fill Yourself
of Smoke and Champagne
not to fill a void
to celebrate
the word you posess
that screams and squirms
to linger on the tip of your tongue
it throbs
it devours
and that magic that occurs
when all is broken
the question
the present
the prisoner;
you are free

Weirdest Fucking Shit (excuse my language)

HOE-K SO,

yesterday i randomly met this women. i'm not sure what exactly she does, but i know it is some sort of nontraditional psychobabble, and that she does not have a degree in any of these fields in which she talked to me about.

I will try to sum this up, but really you had to be there...
So this women i have never met touches me and begins crying because she says i have such a powerful soul and she can feel the pain i am in. she started telling me stuff about who i am, my family, what i should do with my life...and she keeps referring to Micheal. as in "Micheal is telling me..."
So here i am, thinking, what the fuck. who is this lady and why is she telling me this...
Then she starts talking about how the angels are with us...the archangel Micheal.

So now, i am scared shitless because i think i am trapped in a small area with someone who is either fanatically religious, schizophrenic, or just a freak. it was likely a combination.

Then she tells me social work and psychology are the entirely wrong paths for me to follow. i am a "sensitive soul" who cannot sit day after day listening to the pain of others, "making money off of their misery." (sadly there was a little truth in that one)

Instead! I am to marry someone with a lot of money and write novels from my house, and be the most amazing mother.

Oh and Micheal told her the angel that was with me the day i was born is archangel Raphael. So whenever I am in pain, I just need to call out to Raphael.

I can't say Raphael was my favorite ninja turtle, but hey, cowabunga dude.

On A Different note...

We are what we think
all that we are arises with our thoughts
with our thoughts we make the world
speak or act with an impure mind
and trouble will follow you
as the wheel follows the ox that draws the cart

we are what we think
all that we are arises with out thoughts.
with our thoughts we make the world.
speak or act with a pure mind
and happiness will follow you
as your shadow, unshakable
how can a troubled mind
understand the way

Your worst enemy cannot harm you
as much as your own thoughts, unguarded

But once mastered,
no one can help you as much,
not ever your father or your mother.

(a bit of Tao wisdom)...i should probably take note of this.

caution: vent

my dad was supposed to be out of the hospital four days ago. i've never seen him so sick.
i have no issue with having to be the one to get everything finished; the cooking, the christmas shopping, the taking and picking up from school, the running back between denver and boulder.
i spent last night in the hospital with my dad, i'm the two of combined got no more than 2 hours of sleep. apparently this is impossible for anyone who hasn't directly experienced it to understand, but these everyday tasks feel impossible.
part of why i am so upset is because i had been doing so much better, and my god, what a relief it was. but here i am again, melodramatic and overreacting.
but FUCK seriously, no one has any idea what this feels like. i'm going to scream if one more person tells me the following:
you're overreacting
you're being selfish
it'll be okay
everything's alright
this is only temporary
we all feel like this right now

dont fucking yell at me for "overreacting" when you of all people should know why this is so hard for me right now.

A Few of My Favorite Things

i'm so blessed to have beautiful people in my life. i've been down so low, but it's different this time. i have a sunflower; my favorite flower, the one which lights my heart. Her petals wilt, and it takes everything i have not to lift them up...where they belong. And then she blooms- a blossom no one can deny. It's funny how a flower can bring such warmth into my life. She understands, and I feel safe.

Then there is the clay; so solid and strong. In my hands he takes to me, he loves me. He takes shape to my formless mold and creates something so beautiful. Suddenly i no longer feel weak. In clay i am reminded of the possibilities; the fluidity of our lives. There are no errors in clay, only the most beautiful of flaws.

why?

will there ever be a day when this isn't an issue?

it used to be that i didn't know how to ask for help when i really wanted it.
now i know how to ask for help but i don't really want it.

i've spent the past few days completely detached from everything around me.
my mind and body are miles apart.

i'm punishing myself, but i don't know why.

Eddie

I've stripped my bed of it's sheets
burned all of the pictures
quarantined any clothing
contaminated by your memory

I've ripped the mirrors off the wall
locked all the closet doors
swept beneath the bed
just in case i'd find you there

I've sterilized the air
which you once breathed
dusted and mopped
the earth you touched

I thought I saw you
hiding behind the corner
but when i looked
you weren't there

Still, I feel your breath
on the back of my neck
my veins turn cold
with your shallow lies

Don't Worry

dear they say:
dear,
it's happened before
it'll happen again
you shouldn't act so surprised.

here they say:
here,
kindly swallow this
and eat that
you'll be better in no time.

honey they say:
honey,
now, now
it's not that bad
it could always be worse.

no i say:
no,
you really don't understand

please i say:
please,
just go away

it's happened before, it's not that bad, i'll feel better in no time, it could always be worse.

hear me i say:
please

Requiem for November

still the window faces east
the ice forms and drips to please
your peach pie sits half eaten
the tree has long lost it's leaves

you set out for the day
only to reach a rusty door knob
the boots sit saturated
while the sun mocks you in contempt

the house seems strangely empty
a quarter covered in light
the pines are bowing
letting the weight fall from their limbs

by now the ice could have never been
had you not felt the core melt
dripping from your hand the day before
only to be lost in a puddle below

Hush Says You

it's funny how you come and go but never leave
pirouetting your way up my sleeve
and even if i were to push you off
your words would leave me soft
tip-toeing around my feet
there is the silentist of beat
sometimes it makes me want to scream
and other times it lulls me into dream
if you strike the cord just right
i find myself awake all night
and if you hit the wrong key
you'd be best to forget about me
i'd like to say you're not mine
i'd like to say without you i'm fine