day one hundred sixty-four: there will be blood.

this is guaranteed
there will be blood
when the monster breathes
it will drip and fall and splash
and dreams may come true
but nightmares follow
in the shadows
lurking behind every happy thought
there is that one filled with terror and oblivion
you don't know what to expect
or when to expected
you just know there will be blood
there will be a life taken
so lurk not in the shadows
steal to the light
but even then death might catch up to you
and only then can you even try
to put up a fight.

day ninety-seven: things that are, things that do.

a writer

writes

a poet

rhymes

a dreamer

turns nightmares

into pretty things

a singer

sings

a lover

loves

an artist

thinks more

than most dare to ponder

a life

is lived

a day

is done

a race

isn't over

until someone has won

a test

is taken

a fire

burns

a "someday"

hopes to be loved

with real love in return

day eighty-nine: i know this will be misunderstood, but it must be said.

nights like this

i miss you more

and more

and

more.

nights so cool

and chill

and more

and

more.

nights where coyotes

howl and scream

and more

and

more.

nights when the moon

just seems so near

and more

and

more.

nights like this

i simply miss

the sound of my name

and more

i miss the sound of yours

and more

rolling of a tongue

and more

and so i'll whisper it

and more

into nights like these.

fix my heart.

day sixty-three: dancing in the dark.

there was a sky

filled with emptiness

and empty of the moon

so the sun filled it up

to the brim

(the emptiness, that is)

with warm honey and love

and there was a sky

filled with sunny love

and empty of the moon

so the sun left

because the sky was not happy

with the sticky sweet honey

and the love that did not mean much

and there was nothing left

but empty

so the moon came

with his smooth light

and livened up the sky

but not with something sticky sweet

with something smooth and cool

something like the feeling

of dancing in the dark.