dearest alexander,

rest quietly. sleep softly.

you will be missed, more than you could ever imagine.

she'll do what she wants

and the more you tell her not to

the more she will.

the more you tell her not to

likelier

she will.

dear hypocracy, i never liked you anyways.

where is my boy tonight?

little bird

little bird listens
and sings to the wind
his voice overheard
by the leaves and the limbs
of tree tops
green
with everlasting life
sprinkled with droplets
of dew from the sky.

guess who...

finally figured out how to make a stencil on photoshop!

i shall include this in my self portrait. i believe it will be the finishing touch.

self portrait

meticulous

pensive

quixotic

whimsical

thats me.

we are the purple

he's a woven tapestry
in which
i am a thread
tangled endless
pull me
unravel.

you're the music
in my lungs
the taps in my toes
the whisper
in my ear
soft
ever so soft.

sick of spinning
tired of twirling
dizzy
fall back into my skull
a bone shelter.

meanwhile,
he's a bicycle
upside down
missing a wheel
circling spokes
around
and around.
stuck.

we are the purple
he is the red
i am the blue
but you've made me green.