The human complex is simple.

We want more, more, and more on top of our full-plate.

A vicious cycle of self-infatuation, self-pity,
and a lack of empathy,
creates ill-fate.

No human is perfect so why do we constantly try to drown in false preconceptions?

How can we not see its all just perspectives, wholly subjective?

The world can't seem to see past shiny things,
the loud and bright distractions,
yet stay on the search for the perfect life, inevitably full of imperfections.

When all you need is just above the glaring screen,
raise your eyes to true love, affection, and human connection.

Love is perfection in any complexion.

Creases and lines guide our malleable vessel,
the mind.

Doubts, fears, and anxieties breakdown even the strongest of vessels to the core,
can it take much more?

Drowning in emotion, the exterior begins to erode apart, board by board.
How much more damage can such a small vessel endure?

Lust and greed lead the moaning vessel through the wrong currents and paths,
seemingly like a sociopath on a warpath.

We can only call on one savior in such detrimental times.

The mind.

Love, empathy, kindness, care, happiness, and positivity is the quickest escape, it has no name as it's inside every brain.
Our existence.

The mind.

Internal flames sustain the charring coals of misery.

Heat so intense,
the molten source of such bewitchery seems contradictory.

As time ends the landscape bends.
Seeps.
Melts.
No hope for new discovery.

Personal freedom and liberty are now things of history.

Ideas and dreams stuck in protohistory,
nothing left,
zero energy,
abstinence of synergy.

Death. The bittersweet valedictory.
Lost ideas of mystery. The mystery that
only the silent soul can hold the final sole victory too.

Flowers 🌺 💐 sit on the windowsill
just waiting to die inside themselves
trying to bloom and bud but how can they when I’m yours?

Words fade as the breeze sweeps through bringing scents of jasmine, lilies and lilacs.
I listen to the sincerity play and echo in the background as the summer sun hits the light just right. I see you in this perfect light and I forget about the 🌺 flowers and the seeping ☠️ poison keeping them alive.

As a man I let you inside and run and hide I could not it was only a matter of time before the flowers would die.
I knew the whole time I could never bloom for you.

Escaped from past pain and can now explain.

The epic fall and tragedy from within humanities food chain.

I said I can explain,
as I have begun to train.

Looking towards a light that illuminates the darkest of eyes and times.

How much of such brightness can I contain and retain?

What I know is I've already lived my last dark days.

I said I can explain,
no longer connected to a ball and chain.

Freedom is now in the sunrise,
see the brightness in my eyes.

Fearful and lost in the despair of time.

Debtful to most in this life of grime.

Hopeful and dishonest looking for some change.

When all this time the key to the cage were just letters on a page.

The will to fight, true discovery and insight. The power to finally view with clear sight.

Without creativity we lose the flame.

Without sincerity we lose the humane.

Without poetry we forget past pain.

Without pain we never gain.

Without knowledge we only remain, and never break from restrain.

With growth we finally free the brain.

Who am I if I'm not alive enough to see?

Who can I become with so much internal deceit?

Who and what is a soul when it's become lost?

Who and what is remembered when I'm forgot?

We all traverse pain, we all know it's true name.

The cold eternal flame that is universally the same, the fuel to this almighty game of life we confusingly play.

and there was always something about the perpetual silence that rang through the room as i bit down on my lip looking at him lopsided. they were always slightly chapped in the middle,
and when i smiled through small, notorious breaths,
i tasted blood from bitter winters.
there was something about aligned spines and hands along hourglasses and snickers that broke the silence of tremendous distribution of headache.
isn't it funny to realize that somebody may have just slightly exceeded your complication?  
i’ve watched the sunlight filter and fade out through the blinds covering my windows for too many days alone and i wonder if the rays look so much more beautiful casting over his room. 
i feel shoulder blades and hipbones burning and itching into a dull generic hallucination, entranced by the idea that maybe in the back of your mind you ignore my bumps and scratches.
i never told him that i wanted to memorize every inch of his skin and that maybe he'd forgive me for flinching when he ran his fingers over where my side meets my hips.
i promise that i love the feel of you against my skin, i’m not shivering out of fear.
i don't want to write about how every time he touched me, vacancy of ribcages took flight.
and i didn't want him to know that i sat up with him counting his heartbeat when he slept.
his eyes flutter underneath softer skin and i thought it was beautiful.  
his lip curves upward slightly more in one direction and i loved the way knees had always buckled.
he reminded me that i exist in a world where people like him live and it gives me strange senses of perpetual hope.
i wish i had the willpower of august and the submission of february, but you are not a kitchen sink and i am not a dresser drawer
and sometimes it aches indescribably to know that i've kissed the sea and coming home hasn't been the popular option.
now these days i can no longer tell if the heartbeat i hear is yours or mine
and i do not want to be able to distinguish between the sound.
you breathe i breathe.
some people are just tiny little pin ****** in the backs of our minds and others, hand grenades the size of fists leaving bits and pieces of confusion plastered around like disheveled skulls.
i would bathe you in the breath from my lungs and i would wash you clean of all things made from yesterday, and i swear that
i am in love with you.