Sometimes the road parts And there is nothing there for you One takes you up the other down And neither one leads to happy Nothing but trouble and worry So do you stay? Do you stand still? Keep what you have and wait? Or do you head off road… off map Find that happy you…


The moment was magic Erasing every little doubt Like a lighthouse beaming Peering deep into the dark The ghosts stopped haunting And the devils stood in awe For there was no other alive Not ever To silence her darkness With one little smile


Survival means Breathing dust made of glass Heartache like stickpins Racing through veins It means sucking up lava And spitting out shards of ice It’s walking on rusty nails And bleeding out your disease It’s burdening cancerous boils Of sadness and despair As love works it’s magic Making all the hard stuff Worth the surviving


In that moment I am alone Sometimes the love stays Wraps me up Like a warm blanket does Consoles my soul Like your strong arms can But sometimes I can feel the ice form Before you’ve taken a step Before you can turn away Before you say goodbye And it freezes everything I can barely…


The flip was switched Or the switch flipped Either way Or some way The deed was done The dirty deed Was done cheap But not cheaply Because we are all Professionals here Pausing at green lights Running through reds Our attention switched Spans too quick Intelligence waning We are all disguised In filters and memes…


The turbulence is there Even in the quiet Inside the gentle rocking The to and fro of life It’s always, always there Like a crouching cat Just waiting To release its fury Because at its core Turbulence is furious And before you know it Before you can hold on With great sweeping tides And deep…


Experience falls upon us Settling in layered beds Muddy rust, shiny silver Crystals of every color Debris and rotted roots Every single one of us A unique mix of sediment With treasures not easily seen But always worth digging for


There it was just lying there Purpose holding tight to hope Clinging so hard to the dwindling Dominance of a careless faith That the ground began to rise As if dark itself was being born


Like glitter falling from a broken sky Jagged little pieces of atmosphere Cut through these hands of mine There are no silver horizons and Only shards to illustrate the moon Who will fall out of these reflections Once the ground collects their souls