Stretching,meshing, knitting together the invisible fascia separating us from gravity and breathless floating. Sometimes heavy and thick tricking the eye and mind to sleep in a lullaby of rain, sometimes teasing you with peek-a-boo sunshine.

Oh, look! That one looks like a clipper ship sailing away to buried treasure....

Poeple can be mean to you

Those you do not like

But life takes you in different ways

And so do there's

So don't worry

There is still time

To run away

The past is the past. If you don't realize that, you will go on living your life, in the past. Living in the past is self-inflicted torture. If you focus on the mistakes you made in the past, if you try to be cool like you were in the past, if you try and live in the past you force yourself into a box. You want to live in the present, be the best person you can be this very second, be the greatest of the great in this time. Be you right now, and don't be anyone else.

Can't they be quiet?

Do they just rush in?

Will they never be happy?

Are they really so sad?

Won't they stop?

Don't they start?

Isn't always the same?

Should they be different?

Couldn't they care less?

Wouldn't they want more?

Does it not get better?

If I could ever trace

The worn out contour

Of life and love, I will

Be able to say that there

Is never a new beginning

But another gear to this

Giant clock

If I could ever trace the

Worn out contour of a

Woman's shape, I will be

Able to decipher what every

Poem tried to explain

If I could ever trace the

Worn out contour of my

Own shape, I will be able

To dismantle a pack of

Spiders, thunder, rain, wind,

And ink only

If I could ever trace the

Worn out contour of my

Humble lines, there will be

Ink, blood, and love only

But if I could ever trace

The worn out contour of

Our lives themselves, I will

Be able to see that maybe,

Just maybe, they are not

Worn out at all.

DA 2014

The warm wind brushes on my arms,

I look out and see the rolling hills and farms.

The golden sun sets,

We think of all our regrets.

The birds fly by,

They lighten the night sky.

I wish upon a star.

Not for a phone or a car.

I wish for a beautiful sunset tomarow,

One full of beauty and free of sorrow.

When we realize

That the world is all covered in smog

A heavy, thick unfogiving fog

We created it

We molded it out of clay

We formed it with our own hands

Together, we made it this way

When will we realize

That it’s all our fault

We might,

Just might,

Be able to change

It won’t happen over night

We knew that from the start,

But because we are built to create

And fix

And love

And know

And care,

We can change this

Togther

Sometimes it creeps up on you like a spider.

Nobody, not one person knows how to prevent it.

When you're in trouble you'll know.

It doesn't feel good to be in trouble, everyone knows it.

Don't get in trouble.

It's the last thing you want to do.