I'm afraid if I keep going,
I will have gone too far
but if I do not keep on going
I will not have gone far enough
the light at the end of this tunnel
always leads to another
i don't know how to tone down the downs
without flaring up the ups

'Tidal'
a ripple in a puddle
like a pebble in a stream
slowly changes everything
but it takes massive waves
to get a tide to turn
if you seek to understand
you will see
that these are more
than just words
penned
from end to end
yet they do not define a thing
these are just words
penned
from end to end
it was then, that the day refused to ever descend again
a broken heart beats to a broken drum
dancing as it breaks again, singing as we strum
I'd rather not be here, she said
blood rushing to her head
upside down to find the beauty in the dread
is the vibration of an unheard voice merely here for ambiance?!
and are the unspoken words on the tips of our tongues meant only for tasting?!
it is a plethora, a menagerie of idiosyncrasies 
I wish I could paint a hundred little happy clouds
upon your starry night
so much can be said over coffee...
but the words kept silent in our eyes
exchanged in between each gentle sip
truly speak the loudest
if only we could dance a little longer
whispers    and glitter     and
gentle hooves      on          crunchy snow
lead            and I    will follow
a path         a love       unknown
Fall asleep so that you can wake up; wake up so that you cannot fall asleep
if you could get a pickle for a nickel
or a lime for a dime
what would it get you
if not sour all the time
we found ourselves when we found each other
pockets were meant for our hearts
to hold the things our hands let go
things were a little foggy when I found you
so I am glad you could see through the fog to find me
like a deck of cards
we are
a bit shuffled
breaking only to rebuild stronger
living is 'not dying' a little longer
embrace that which makes you ponder
makes you wonder makes you wander
every breath is death; conquered
it must be tougher than it seems; to copy all the motions, never knowing what they mean
the weeping willow weeps for thee as the breeze whispers your name through it's dusty leaves
There's something about my breath that tastes better acquired from your lips
he loves to steal your heart
he tears it apart
welds it back together
...he calls it art...
i know someday i'll wash away
into the deep blue sea
until then, come ashore with me
what things that we might see!
i fix my eyes upon your glittery things
the shiny trinkets that "come my way"
finders make for keepers
or so the wise ones say
to retrieve these things in this realm
there must be a trade
and if you do not follow through
come what may, come what may
these rooms they look identical 
their differences cannot be seen
so different
a nightmare and a dream
but still i do not see
blurry, i search
until i feel my eyes may bleed
everything remains, still i know
these rooms are but one
and what i really see
nightmare and dream
both a part of me
my reflection
lies
in between
he never really saw me
like a cinderella who set her prince free
these shoes have been damaged by too many feet
tattered and torn, they no longer fit me
and he doesn't look up to see
you are the dew on the lawn in the afternoon when the weather no longer knows it's season.
he stared me in the eye and said he would break my heart; little did he know I would break his soul
there is a peace between these trees
and here i walk amongst them
to not disturb
is
to join them
there is a peace between these trees
and here i walk amongst them
the sun radiates every night
i cannot ignore these beams of light
emitting from within so bright
eyes always open
daydreaming; mind rolling
pushing forward
running toward the dream in sight
grasping on, knuckles white
momentum grows and i hold tight
we cast our spells into the wells of other peoples' eyes
until it swells into a hell deep inside
i refuse to take your "medicine"
in tiny little pills
i refuse to take these side effects
while spending hundred dollar bills
your poison spread throughout my veins
every problem just made worse
i refuse to be a guinea pig
I'd rather take this curse
a rhythm aligned when time unwinds;
 is that not a love defined
do we really see ourselves reflecting in the mirror
and how could we see ourselves any clearer