we're all drifting through a stream,
at times calm and tranquil,
inching through glass-like waters,
ripple-less and clear.

still at others the water is black,
turning and contorting in wrath,
with an acrid, salty taste
you can't help but breathe in.

the stream never empties into a lake
or ocean or river or off a cliff.
however, it may run into other streams,
and they may powerfully bind together,
creating new rivers, and mountains,
and eventually, streams once more.

first i learned to live day by day,
then - slowly - moment by moment.
i'm still working on it,
but i'd like to think i can
flow seamlessly from sadness
to happiness, without so much as a hiccup.
of course, speed bumps exist in life,
possibly on purpose, to throw us off track.
but if you accept them for what they are,
and realize that the best you'll ever be,
is all that you are in the present,
you can start living in the moment,
or - at the very least - day by day.

the day after valentines,
i'm looking for a girl.
one who thinks flurries
technically count as snow.

the thing i miss the most about her is her hair. it was always soft whenever i ran my fingers through it. i told her she should dye it black, so she bleached it an eye-blinding blond. i washed it, twirled it, adored it. now i miss it. even more, i miss holding it back while she used to throw up from drinking too much. it was a simple role, but one i dutifully undertook. now when she slides out of bed at 3 a.m. to throw up and ever-so-quietly wakes me, i bury my head in my pillow and cry.

stress is milk on the floor,
long past its prior prevention.
and if you cry or mourn,
you further its extension.

tissues are mops in hand
to clear away the mess.
we may not understand,
but certainly mustn't suppress.

slopping around in the mud,
surely won't make you clean.
but with help from a flood,
we can feel alive and pristine.

i fall asleep tonight
and wake before the sun.
it's no special day,
just another one.

but chance something happen,
to turn me upside down.
a smile or a laugh,
to turn my life around.

though neither shall occur,
on this ordinary day.
i assure myself quietly,
that it will all be ok.

because somewhere,
laughter and smiles exist.
and that kind of happiness,
should never be tragically missed.

the tree remembers,
that giver of life on Earth.
and it always will.

strong winds blow the leaf
and it lands in the dark sea.
who remembers it?