I like the way the sky is falling
It makes me look up and use muscles in my neck that I don’t normally use
I like the way the ground moves when I walk
I like the way the trees talk to me
I like the way the sun shines just bright enough to burn my tender skin, to burn my tender eyes so that my visions are no longer there
I like the way the grass reaches up and grabs my ankles as I walk by
As each leaf falls, another tragic death occurs
Words are just words unless you add more words to them
I have been on a cliff, have looked down, have seen Hell trapped in a bottle
To be, or to be – NOT
Why am I writing this?
The same reason you are reading it