Open your mind, your heart
Your eyes do they see?
I am not this shell
But depths of oceans
And expanse of skies.
I open unto me and
Verily I say unto thee
Sleep not on the razor's edge
But within your souls embrace
And you will be wild and free.

It's fucking fiction, man, get over it. And yes, "big-ass" is an adjective and "fuck all y'all" is syntactically correct.

I smile faced flushed. Slow down girl
Says I,
Let
It happen, don’t push don’t rush. In your
Eagerness,
You may fall too hard again or push away
And your heart is already
Bruised.

Think of the solace you find now though you
Want
More often.
That other girl was not where you
Need to be.

Yes I know you know what you want and it
Kills
You not to move forward with all your breath and
Desire.
To find out and move on if not. Just be you,
This could be sweet if you let it. Or this could be
Nothing
But a warm day full of cool breezes and face
to the sun, it passes but has made you smile.

The need was great
I did not succumb.
Desires not of the flesh
Manifest in slow form,
And reveal trueness of spirit.
Desire, passion I have known
Love I have held.
It’s about the future I will not
Await but step forth now.

Step forth now
into the purpose of being
and know thyself.

The future will unfold just as it should.

Martin! Martin! It's a good day not to be dead, and, and, I am happy.
Question me this and answer not
but ponder well in act and thought:
Is it our sole purpose to develop into a solitary entity, or to connect
with another living soul...
to love deeply yet live freely...

Say hello to Sheree, my friend, I know you're stalking me....you suck as a stalker. It was good to talk to you yester eve and Oklahoma isn't too far away....friends deep and true come along not often, don't loose me somewhere along the side of the road. *snif snif

"Why can't we give ourselves one more chance"
"why don't we give love one more chance"
"love is an old fashioned word"
"this is ourselves under pressure"

I bought flowers yesterday, Bubba, deep purple iris like those on your casket. The ones your boys took home. On the sixteenth I was in a panic: Journal entry 06/16/2004:
So I turned on all the fucking lights. I can’t remember the day he died. Today, tomorrow, or even if it’s been two or three years. But his heart stopped and then his lungs. And March nineteenth we buried him to months before his thirty-six birthday. To the date, we buried him.

Tread soft the light blue crush
As not to startle or to shy.
Fall not easily this next time
But with purpose
Think the tender heart,
Future and seed in mind.

My heart
Loves deeply
And bleeds
Beautifully
Said I one January.

I saw you Sunday
Then thought of you yester morn
And again today in waking.
The quiet repose and inurgency
Startles with soft smiles.

And I am thinking with heart beating, “ah, just wait, let’s see”.

Rainy day come and gone
And the morrow was damp wth the richness of soil and growth.
"Cool touch on too hot flesh", the thought came but not the words.
In stillness I reside restless.

While the light blue crush beneath me smiles
I grow timid and reserved.