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I believe in the power of weather
And a teardrop from the sky is enough 

To keep me in bed all day;
The sad look of the moon

Is all it takes to get me crying again.
I believe in the beauty of tears;

The humdrum, daily suicide
I commit everyday.

I believe in nature,
When nature holds a pen

I don’t believe in you or your cause
I only believe in my own—

Anymore, anyway.  What the hell
Is belief anyway?  It was never any excuse

To live.  But only a death-justification
Hope for resurrection and prayer that 

Someday this could all be over—
No better yet, this could all get better!

Well how much better can it get?
We’re already living in hell.  

I don’t want to see anything better than this
Because it might be worse than hell

I believe in the beat of butterflies wings,
The ones no one else seems to appreciate.

They keep afloat that which is fragile;
Keep in air-motion that which usually crawls 

And go unnoticed in all glory and I’m not satisfied.
Not satisfied with you, not satisfied with me

Not satisfied with watching the damn butterfly all night long,
Not satisfied with this verse.  

I believe in the beauty of ugly.
I believe in not pursuing anything that I love wholeheartedly.

I believe in love, sometimes,
Othertimes, it doesn’t exist.

I believe in mania, mania sets me free
I don’t believe in mom, I believe more in spirits 

Than I do the spirit of my father.  
I don’t believe in psychotherapy

--for why I want to be a therapist
I don’t believe in tornadoes,

Thunderstorms don’t exist
Except in a perfect world

So they’ve ceased to occupy my dreams.  
I believe in paint splotches

And the beauty of wax.  
I believe the two together can make this 

World an uglier place.  
I believe in intuition,

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