When the world
seems, to be
spinning without you—
just listen
breathe and remember
the world spins for you,
as it does that perfect stranger
who too is listening.

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When the world
seems, to be
spinning without you—
just listen
breathe and remember
the world spins for you,
as it does that perfect stranger
who too is listening.

Look me in my heartache
And tell me there’s a cure
When butterflies were band-aids
Where fact and fiction blur
Speak to me in virtues
The one’s I’m pickled for
When only field’s were diamonds
And playgrounds left you sore
Hold me in your sorrow
With hands so soft and pure
When bedtime meant tomorrow
Was absolutely sure
Hear me as the willows
Send shivers down your spine
When fluff was just for pillows
Where wonder’s in the pine
Sense me in my mourning
For those yet to be fed
When fear meant it was pouring
Where Rover was still red
Send prayers if you still got em
Though mine have long since fled
This well’s filled from the bottom
Where sailboats are led
Look at me lovely this here is I guess
a mixture of meanings which help to make sense
of the past which gave us nothing but suspense
with fearful longing and a mother’s defense.
Look at me lovely with eyes in full bloom
now imagine a child alone in his room
the covers are pulled tight warm as a womb
his head full of static his heart thumping doom.
Look at me lovely take into account
these present day feelings are years gone without
comfort or closure confused full of doubt
exchanged for composure now deep underground.
Look at me lovely two decades gone by
and please ask yourself to whom do you cry
an eye for an eye I used to imply
now I want nothing more than to sleep through night.
Look at me lovely with infinite jest
this smile is armor for that I confess
in daydreams I make up reasons quite complex
for nightmares which haunted that boy in his bed.
Look at me lovely it’s lovely in fact
walking down sidewalks avoiding the cracks
though sometimes it feels like breaking your back
the pain that defines us with love cannot last.
Look at me lovely with harlequin eyes
for we are not wells that dry up inside
and take with you this last line then decide
his failure’s your lesson, her nurture’s your pride.
It’s people
who feel invisible
that do
the most heinous things,
and nobody
ever seems to know
who, what, where, when
or why such things could be done,
until after the fact
when there’s enough
evidence
to write a book in cold blood.
You see,
the kid doesn’t forget.
Forgive, yes
but forget, never.
Kids don’t make the rules,
but they’re a product of them.
And no matter what you say
after the fact,
the fact,
is still a fact.
No matter how old you get,
respect isn’t due
remember,
it’s earned.
You see,
enforced respect holds no weight.
Power, yes
but honor, none.
Kids don’t make the rules,
but they abide.
They see,
and survive
no matter the so called times
that they’re raised in.
You can try, but
you just can’t fool kids.
No matter how old you get,
right is right
and wrong is wrong,
things never change.
Except for the kid,
you see.