to the ones who stick.

here’s to the ones
who stick:

who trick
the odds and statistics

and decide not to quit-
the ones that know when you hit

gold- in friends, in love, in family-
you don’t just ‘wait and see’

what happens. you choose
not to use

people to your advantage, instead
you commit your head

and heart to being there,
no matter where

you’re needed. you answer the call,
you break down the wall

if you have to. the ones you never doubt-
they’re what life’s about

and they deserve your best, your most.
so here’s a toast:

I raise my glass to the profound-
to the ones who stick around.

skeletons. 

so you want my secret-
the one nobody knows,
the one that let me live
and love and grow-
even after the hell I t.r.a.v.e.l.e.d. through?
I must protect the [little]
left of my heart
but here’s a hint:

whatever
else you do,
if there are skeletons in your closet,
make them dance for you. 

careful.

Be careful with your words, my dear
Be careful with your sighs
Be careful with confessions,
With your omissions and your lies

Be conscious of your promises
Your encouragements and   s m i l e s,
Be wary of the kindness
That is hurting all the while

Take caution with your lips, my dear
Your truths are full of dust
From the disuse of a month, a year-
And I’m all out of t.r.u.s.t.

Your foolish words are empty, dear
You know this to be true
And if you do not take more care
They’ll all catch on to you

light.

I’ve seen you clearly in the sun,
Your face in morning dawn-
My eyes have all but memorized
The way you move along.

But who are you at twilight?
Who are you in the dark?
When the night reigns supreme
Do your eyes still have that spark?

What are you when
You’re just your voice?
A whisper or a shout?
What are you when
You’re just your hands,
When the bulbs go out?

I yearn to know the truth-
where does your secret soul reside
When everything is stripped away
And light won’t let you hide?

welcome.

Welcome to my
Mess of thought
My web of confusion, fraught
With doubt and fear

Welcome to the
House of madness,
The grip of sadness
Makes home here

Welcome to my
Den of lies
And, surprise,
Of broken trust

Welcome to the
Main event-
My tears all spent
On my disgust

Welcome to the  t i p p i n g  point
Where I rise from the dust

 

wanderlust.

A blue-eyed lad with Scottish charm
Pint in hand, held out his arm
I thought “well, it’ll do no harm”
(That’s how these things start)

A blonde-haired English boy
smiled and laughed, rather coy
I smiled back, full of joy
(Although we had to part)

I wandered from home, far away
Forgot my life just for a day
And said all that I could say
(Except what was in my heart)