Geometric white light
connects joints of past and singularity
heated tension building through fingernails
and luke-warm glass of water sitting idly by.

Jitters, man. The jitters are strong this time, deep and invigorating. Can't sing, can't comprehend the average. Nothing average.

Feel what's right,
let footsteps fall simply
a pathway predestined, predisposed
to second chances but intimately present.

Eyes are repulsive. Why can't you look through them? Into the soul. It's rude, souls are *****. Resonate deeply, learn the way of vibration, vibrate freely, child.

Don't miss it.
Let it flow, the right is natural,
and ******* breath passes through all
that is just.

We all die the same. No one really grows flowers from their graves but we're all pansies, soiled by the dirt of hopes vested into unrealistic stars at night. And you took me by the hand and led me into the bookstore on the square, and I found myself between the cardboard. Heart beating for small fonts and graffiti letters on rotten wooden doors. Maybe flowers are growing there, from inside the heads of kids with far better futures than those hanging in front of me on black thread, boiling the air with the vescent gloss of winters and leaves long gone. I'm up to my shins in trash and up to my neck in excuses, always hoping to find a reason why I should never be the same, never again. Screaming circles frame the open fields, and whispering spherical expansion pushes forward through the wind. Insanity steeps in present, and I'm working on acceptance. Still-footed or not, stagnant, I'm done forcing it.

Intention can mold a face
On either side of the head
Seven eighths shadowed
And one half lit
Bridged nose comprehending
Life-red cheeks
And seeking.
Sun-heated path
In any direction
Meets oak park benches
By park lamps.
Feet tinged by chilled swaying greenery;
Move forward,
Or change faces and digress?

With toes seeping between
yellow blanket and
quilted leaves

shirt front ripped beneath
blue-white crossed pattern

With newfound treaty between
******* and
poetry

I know I am okay.

Breathe.