Could be worse y'all. Could be a whole lot fuckin worse. When I look at all the crazy shit in the world that's what I think. But ya know what? It could be a whole lot better too. And that's what I'm aiming for. Life is a cocky motherfucker. Always thinks he can show up to my party and piss in my Cheerios. Always thinks he can kick em when they're down. When these things happen I always have to have a serious little talk with the punk bitch. I say "look here buddy. This is mine. I understand what you're trying to do and why - everyone gets a little hooked on drama - but you're not going to hang me up. Why? Cus I'm strong and I fight hard and I win. Take your bullshit and leave. I don't want you here." It's funny though Cus he always comes back every couple months - thinks he's learned a new trick or two I haven't seen. It's always the same though. I can see right through and I keep doin what I do. Life is broken. Not me.

1.The phone call that broke my world apart

tearing the fabric of my innocence

as I was thrust into reality too soon.

2. The lungs that collapsed from the weight

on my chest as the words crashed

into my mind piece by piece.

3. The loved ones who cry every night

because they can't help but blame themselves

for not being able to see the invisible.

4. The years we had known each other

that all seem to be a blur

of fading classrooms and familiar ghosts.

5. The people who held me

and whispered promises they couldn't keep

as the light of youth went out for good.

6. The tainted year that began my

downward spiral onto leathery couches

and empty words full of fake feelings.

7. The days it took me to realize

that my shadow was consuming me

and leading me down the loneliest path

to battle my own darkness.

8. The years that have passed by

using each waking moment

as a reminder of all that you could have been.

9. The grade that I let all my thoughts

and regrets flow through lead tips

and trembling fingers so I could feel some sort of peace.

10. The seconds it takes for me

to regain control of my own demons

when your name falls from unworthy lips.

11. The age when you decided

that life wasn't worth living and

that I wasn't enough to keep you hanging on.

Unclench your fists

and let me kiss

the crescent moon scars

your nails have left behind.

Hasn't anyone ever

told you they aren't

worth the effort?

No need to get mad

over petty words for

they are just pebbles

against the might

of a castle.

Fading stars that can't even

compare to the Moon.

Look me in the eyes

and tell me why you

should worry.

We know what we are worth.

We know what we can do.

Together we are strong

and nothing they can

say will ever make you

anything short of

breathtaking.

When it's cold and raining,

you are more beautiful.

And the snow brings me

even closer to your lips.

The inner secret, that which was never born,

you are that freshness, and I am with you now.

I can't explain the goings,

or the comings. You enter suddenly,

and I am nowhere again.

Inside the majesty.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,

there is a field. I'll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,

the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase "each other"

doesn't make any sense.

I didn’t know you well.

Didn’t even really like you--

if we’re being honest.

But here you are

ten years later.

To think--if you’d lived

I’d have forgotten you long ago.

But instead I still wonder

about the bridge that let you go

and the water that swallowed you.

If you were afraid

or changed your mind.

They say it happens.

I remember

your father’s voice on the phone,

the hollowness of it.

Gathering together

your toothbrush and alarm clock,

apples and coffee mug.

The striking banality of

things left behind.