Rain. Windy. Trees blowing. It’s getting dark. Tears. Sad. Cement and green grass.
Protestors. TV cashed in. All of us were sold out.
Love is all there is.
Wrinkles. Rhythm. Dance over him. Go slow. Get in love. Let it down. Get high.
Feel what you will. It’s not too late.
It’s wet. It’s cold. It’s too much. I can’t feel and I can’t stop.
I want to sleep. I don’t want to eat.
Clouds. The moon’s still out there? The sun will still come up? Confident to plant.
To have babies. To believe in god. To see yellow and purple and green and blue and every shade of red.
To write.
Wine. I need wine. I want wine. I want coffee at a cafe looking at them passing by on the sidewalk. To read poetry.
To have him touch me. To wipe a babies bottom and kiss his sweet lips.
To believe that there is good in the world.
To listen to music and have it touch way down inside to the place where it hurts the most.
To hear words that stretch your heart strings to the breaking point.
To know what it is to hurt. To really hurt. For all of us to have the chance to love and be loved and lose it and still get up crying, bleeding, singing at the stars.
Knowing that you are energy incarnate no different than the universe. Ghosts and the dead at your heels. Screaming in your head… “you’re not alone; you’re not alone”.
Tired backs. Tired bones. Sick at heart. Sick in the head. Sick of it all. Tired to the bone. Splitting headache. Broken heart.
Smelling pleasure. Rocking inside. Splitting wide open it feels so good. Groaning, it hurts so bad.
Scared. Brave. Blind. Alone. Lonely.
Um. Life. Shit. Shit. Goddamn it.
Me. You. Them. Us. We. Him. Her. Mine. Yours. Theirs.
Oh… Listen. Listen. Listen. We are crying. Can you hear it? Are you listening? I hope so.
I love you so much. I’ll always be here.
eyeamdust 