Long day

Too long

Too many long days

And I wonder

Will all this effort be worth it?

What will be the moments that I can stand back and look at with pride?

What days will stand out to them?

Will I scar them?

Will I make the right decisions?

I don't want to make the mistakes of my family...

They cost us a life and I can't bare that for them...

I must be better, do better, put more effort out.

Yell less

Love more

Devote every bit of self

And in the end, I can rest when I'm dead.

Bins of burning posters purposefully send smoke into the sky. For what purpose who is to say, we only know it has a purpose because it is happening, and things that happen have purposes. The smoke is thick with chemicals and faded memories. The posters had seen a lot in their time. Drunken college nights, adoring eyes of teenage dreamers, and the sloppy nests of those birds who dared not spread their wings and fly. As the smoke continued to pollute the air a man walked up and began to warm his hands. Finally the posters purpose has been served.

I think the world is descending into almost total anarchy. In the absence of any world wars, nature has compensated by starting lots of conflict.

Like a cat that's covered in fleas, we don't seem to know where to scratch next!

If it isn't IS and their barbaric methods, it's some other minority faction trying to grab headlines or land under the guise of whatever reason is trending at the moment.

We're all still reeling from the recession and struggling to maintain a steady momentum to our lives and all about is doom and gloom.

What happened to normal? Eh?

Taco Tuesday never really is a deal for me. These kids never want the "taco" only the taco shop. There should be a rule with taco Tuesday. "Kids you Only get the tacos, no other options"

So that mom or dad can order whatever they want without you batting your eyes and requesting the same. No asking for a taste and then saying how yummy it is over and over again until she hands it over to you.

I'm the one that gets so excited "Yay Taco Tuesday guys" while their thinking in their heads "Yay, CarneAsada Burrito day mom!"

the cold has seeped down through my skin into my bones and even in the warmth I feel frigid

the clutches of society are making me question my body again and it makes me tired to think of trying to attain satisfaction

the burns on my hand from the iron sting but they look like fish swimming circular in a pond and I don't mind pain much

desperate for warmth to penetrate I am huddled beside the heater hoping for a warmth like his stare

the whole world is waiting for a wave but I shall sustain and watch

still

Of harrowed bones and somber skies this city creeps along, dragging the carcass of Yesterday. With this burden comes a fascination with the past and yet an eye on the future. The ghosts of the Old West swirl around the empty streets and barren plains, but they are not here to haunt. They whisper in our ears when we begin to grieve for ourselves before we've even passed. "Never forget but never regret," they speak with sage advice. "You're here today and gone tomorrow so why not smile until you expire?" The mountains look down and laugh at our innocence.

Several serval notes rushing round wildly without wondering where what could be indefinite articles among the masses in the rain who terrorize others along the bedrock in the ocean above the wondrous whimsical wobbygongs alighting over and near the fat reach of morselous mandrills besmirched aloud at the dinner table at supper as the candles do dwindle proportionally to the shadows height across the silent study abound in books and leather about feathers and heather, who happens to be a professor of confessors in the great city of contessa, where many an average mind must leap towards to find meaning.

Dreams, are made of hope. Substance cannot describe how I feel when gazing up at the stars. They are far, and I am close. I can't seem to break the faith which holds me tethered to this atmosphere. I am in awe of the beauty that surrounds my heart, keeping me balanced. My sides are in happy stitches, as I laugh with family. We can always come home. They will always be waiting for us, right here. My spirit trusts in God above. He has unending love. My soul will not be left behind. I am whole, so complete now.

I wish I could think of a hundred beautifully connected words. But I am afraid I am not creative enough for it to spill out on command. I am amazed at the beautiful poetry and self realization that seems to come from everyone else at this request of spewing out just a hundred words out of thin air. And even now my mind blanks searching for something. Anything of value or beauty or insight. I guess I am not able to pull this together from my consciousness without a spark. Just me. My mind and I am afraid it's empty.

Aging gracefully

But not at all

Carefully creating connections

Dissecting dissonance

Every action and thought

Flawless skin that never was

Growing softer as the lines appear

Halted thoughts poor on the page

Ignoring stories for truth

Jumping to conclusions unconsciously.

Knotted stomach

Laughing uncontrollably, happy

Magical moments

Noticing every smile

Overwhelming obligations

Perpetuate people pleasing

Quietly hoping life will ease

Rapidly rewarding

Soundlessly simple sleep

Tomorrow will be its own reward

Unless today we fail

Vital to life is every test

While fighting through the storm

Xeroxed emotions

Yearn to feel more

Zero changes make hope the ever present lore.