Jamie and Chris first met the night Stanford defeated USC

The chaos of my Language
My touch
My senses
Eat at
What I want
What urges
My Life
To continue...
each Step
Heavier to lift the leg
Step forward
and continue on...
through the Rubbage
that remains - vacant
yet Crowded by the homeless
Thought, which beggs
For sympathy & nourishment
From my bleeding hands
Which can offer nothing
But the pain you so seem
to want
to live through, even though
Nothing Remains
Take my small, childish hand
in Yours and walk me
through my broken mind
until we find the Light
In my wasteland of darkness
That is my mind
My Soul