2.18.11 (over)

dried blood on your fingers

mistaken for dirt

from cracks in your heart

that cause it to hurt

you've been working all night

to fix what you can not repair

but you try and you fail

and now you're pulling out hair

the rift it grows larger

the void filled up dark

walking quicker now

to the other end of the park

the fragments of love once there

that occupy the cracks

they gleam and they glisten

in a sickening black

you are hollow now

i still hear your name

carried from mouths by the wind

and the hair on my neck still stands for a moment

as i turn and walk away

3.2.09 (make it work)

i'm tired of this flat terrain

i need wilderness, tress, and high mountains

i need wolves and deer, and things in between

i need to see every last thing that i've never seen

no more illusions, i'll create my own

to level my mind and to ease my soul

to travel on the open road

is the only way that i'll truly feel whole

(at least i hope)

no drugs, just life, to make me high

breathe it in deep, let out a heavy sigh

to struggle much, no more than i am now

just growing whole, and tramping about

to dream is to live, live life the way you should

and so i'll try, to make this life good

2008 (about a dream where i set off in a balloon with the company of friends in search of a lost love)

i set off in my balloon

started off with a tiny crew

but soon our strength it grew and grew

and we carried on, wherever the wind blew

oh traveled far, we traveled wide

we made shapes of clouds, to pass the time

we traveled through day to night

till sun had hidden, and stars shone bright

my crew is loyal to the end

they'd go to hell for me, and back again

i'm grateful for every last one of them

i am nobody and these are my friends