A million tiny orange and black butterflies surrounded us     As we walked to the waterfall         On top of a mountain           The most beautiful woman in the world             Held my hand in hers               As the butterflies scattered before we stepped on them It was a perfect day     The best day        The sun was shining          She was laughing and smiling  Everything was aligning     For love to bloom  And bloom it did, bright, warm and big Up in the mountains

If I could I would     apologize          for the lies.   If I could     I would       tell her that I am sorry         for pushing her away.     If I could       I would         call her        and explain       that I can still fall for her;       every time she pulls me back in,          I fall more in love with her,          and when she pulls away,            my love evaporates. It had to end.    It had to.     I had to push her away.    I just wish now I could say     

The weight is gone.  The pressure has  faded away.  The soul tie  has been severed.  I am free.  I am almost  happy.  My energy has  come back to me.  My attention is back on what fulfills me.  I am finally  free.  I spent a full year locked up.  I spent a full year in my head.  I reckon I am dead.  It sure feels like I died.  Everything I thought I was—everything I wanted to become—it’s gone.  Everything I thought I knew  about life isn’t true.  Everything I ever saw  was ju

The sad love songs don’t sound as sad anymore.       They don’t sting like they used to.         I feel bad for the fool who falls in love.           And I condemn those that pour their heartbreak into their art.            Silly attention seeking fools.  Music talks to us in languages we can’t speak yet.      So do our feelings.       So do our bodies.         So does our unconscious.            So does love.             So does the universe.               So does God. Somet