There came a time in my life

When I came upon two paths

One bright and well-travelled

One dark, overgrown, and neglected

Like a fool I chose the easy road

I found candy apples upon the trees

I ate my fill and for the miles I traveled they fed me

I was mollified

Little did I know that they were poison

And the more that I was filled the more I became empty

I lived on the sweetness

I survived


For far too much of my journey

I thought I was fulfilled

Meanwhile the trees grinned

And I was nearly killed

Until finally in my weakened state

A voice whispered to me

Stray from the path

Find not what you want

But what you need

My footsteps were heavy

But I listened

I listened well

I walked away from the sundrenched trail

Into the shadows, into the pale

The sunlight dappled by the overgrown trees

Soothed my eyes

The soft path covered in leaves

Relieved my weary feet

And everywhere in this place unknown

The wild beauty consoled me

I felt the cool water of a feral stream

I slept in an open glen

And dreamt inconceivable dreams

The stars swirled and spoke

The sky was alive

And in that place

That was not a place

I never feared the night

The lesson I learned was simple

One many have learned before

The path that seems inviting

Has such sharp teeth

You will never feel it biting

It is sedating

And it is hungry

But the path they say is full of danger

The darkness, the unknown, and things far stranger

Is the path for people like me

For sunlit roads tend to let you forget

But among the twisted trees

The primitive things reminded me

Just who I was

And who I was always meant to be


The Changing of the Rules

The Changing of the Rule

I say I am excellent at failing

And I say it with a grin

No competition here

It is only accidentally that I win

The concept of success

Has been drilled into our brains

Like a lobotomy

The world is filled with people

Looking to shine

Begging for a medal

To be pinned upon their chest

Searching for the right words

That mean accomplishment

I find it dismal

This universe of hungry souls

Mouths open as if screaming

Waiting to devour any sign that they are worthy

My definition of success

Is best described…

As defective

I can’t grasp the concept

The pride

The ego

It took me years of falling flat on my face

And smirking through the blood

To realize

All I had done

Was change the rules

So many conventions we follow

Are arbitrary and shallow

I chose not to listen

And saw my skills were magnificent

My success come from within

I wear my failure on my sleeve

I compare myself to no one

Because they don’t know my story

What we are worth

And what we have been taught we are worth

Are vastly different things

And a life is wasted

When always chasing a gold ring

Change the rules

And success is no longer beautiful

It is simply people telling you what to do

But destroy the standards

Which they so harshly apply

And you never have to listen

Then the magic happens

That you find


The Impossible Silence

There is a time

When the world becomes still

Time becomes irrelevant

Humans fade away

Like specters

My being shuts down

And there is only hyperbolic silence

Quiet so loud that

That you would shatter

Just to splinter

That awful absence of noise

That suffocates

That drowns you

In its infiniteness

I would cry out

I would let my soul howl

Just to prove that I exist

That there is something more

Than this empty nothingness

The world spins

Lives are lived

And it feels like no one

Notices this terrible silence

Except for me

For all that these eyes can see

Are lips that move with nothing to say

Speeches meant to inspire

That are filled with soundless lies

Whispers of love

That are promises to be broken

The sounds they produce

Create the hyperbolic silence

And there is me

I speak

Passion roaring


Raw and agonizing

And as I watch

I know that too many

Hear only silence

God is a Watchmaker

A girl walked her small town streets

She recognizes everything

The boring cookie cutter houses

The sidewalks

The dog that barks on the corner

Even the trees are so familiar

That you wanted to scream

But she wasn’t screaming

She was crying

Silent tears

That she could not stop from coming

This place where the neighbors waved

This place where happy couples

Walked joyful dogs

She did not fit in here

She could go home

But she knew that she would not

Fit in there either

The looks of pity

The offers of “help”

Forced upon her

Merely a guise of help

This town seemed dead to her

As if every suburban family

Was holding in a shriek

And if they dared to free their voices

They would perish

So she walked

Tears falling

Letting them blur the decay

Down the streets to the shops

Where she saw much to her surprise

A place she had never noticed before

A shop in a dark corner

No sign

Just a time piece on the door

This place looked alive

This place with its quirky style

Stood out

She entered with a tear stained face

And saw an old man behind a counter

The shop was covered in the most perfect

Time pieces she had ever seen

They were art

The old man greeted her

And she walked to the counter

She watched him work

Creating perfection

She was mesmerized

But with no warning he produced a hammer

He began to smash his creations

Some were only dented

Some smashed to bits

Her eyes widened

What are you doing?

She asked

He smiled

Time pieces are like people

He said

Some of them need to be perfect

But can I tell you a secret?

She nodded

Broken is beautiful

And it is the broken people

That change the world

She wiped the tears from her face

Warmth filled her

It is the broken ones

That change the world

She turned and left

She knew that she had learned

The greatest lesson of her life

When she turned back to look at the shop

To once more lock it in her memory

It was gone

Had it ever really been there?

It didn’t matter

Because the smile on her face remained

And she would never forget

It is the broken ones that change the world



Every time I go back “home”

It feels the same

Constantly changing

Constantly staying the same

For so long I hated it

For so long I ran away

Memories are dangerous for me

It took me years

Not to cringe

When I thought about “home”

But as I wandered my old stomping grounds

I laughed at the tragic times

And realized that I could not complain

Because those tears made me who I am

And the sights

Brought back memories

That made my heart suffer

With nostalgia


Train tracks

Playground swings

And a feeling that being an outcast

Was a beautiful thing

I saw this place with jaded eyes

In my youth

Unaccepting of myself

But now I see it as the place

Where I found myself

Something so easy to forget

And with each smile

With each friend

I realized that it was not an evil place

Catastrophe happens every where

But the people who really know you

Dull the sting

And when I think of them

I know they saved me from myself

You beautiful freaks

You let me call it home


Somewhere I never thought existed

Process of Grieving II

Process of Grieving II

I tell people I am terrible at grieving

When you exited this world

I watched my friends and family

Panic in their grief

I watched them sob

I saw their anger

And I stood on the sidelines

The only thing I was capable of saying

Was “Oh”

Years later

Long after I had accepted

That I would never grieve

I read a passage in a book

I found myself crying

In that horrible sobbing way

That makes your heart ache

And beg

And fall upon its knees

I realize now

That I was a child

Unable to understand

The guilt that comes

From not lamenting with the others

Is tempered by

The fact that I know

You did not want me

To cry for a broken body lost

But years later I realized

I was crying for the person

Who never understood me

And I never understood

But I remember the respect

That we had for each other

I remember the fights

Where neither of us were right

But neither of us would give in

We were so different

I never wanted to listen

To the small things you taught me

You wanted to teach me control

Which I never wanted to learn

I was your troublemaker

In a very specific way

And now I hold on to what I have of you

A few possessions

But mostly your spirit carried on

I struggled to escape it

But now I take pride in it

I wear the ring that is like the one you gave me

I keep my last name

I let the hole in my heartache

Just to be close to you

I dream of you

And more than anything

I miss you