She wanted to go home so she tugged on her mother's dress
The loud noises, new giants, and voices troubled her ears
She didn't know how to relax, anxiety shook her
She tugged harder at her mother's dress
This place wasn't familiar to her
But where was it familiar?
I want to go home
She wanted her friends to see how good her life had really turned out
The loud music playing in the background, she brought that CD
She shoved her child towards them like it was feeding time
Never even noticing the small ones shivering bones
I have to tell them about her, only good grades
I want them to know how happy I am
I want them to know
How happy we are
I always wonder what we could've been. Perhaps I wouldn't be writing about you at three in the morning and instead, you'd be wrapping your arms around my waist and holding me through the night. You'd whisper in my ears that I am all yours and you are all mine – as I trace galaxies in the palms of your hands – until we end up dreaming of the vast unknown.
I'm delusional for hopelessly clinging on to our uncertainty because that's all we've ever been, all we'll ultimately be and all we'll ever amount to: an endless list of almosts. Maybe we were too much and never enough all at once, maybe I was too close yet too far, maybe the fire you ignited within me was too strong, and you were too weak to keep that flame alive, or god, maybe the cosmos, the stars, and whatever supernatural forces reigning above us just weren't in our damn favor.
With that being said, my heart is heavy with all the moments I replay over and over, and the words left unsaid. My heart aches for every version of reality that never gave us a chance.
drinking about you
that's how i'm handling this
because 13 shots of whiskey burn less
than each of your abrupt goodbyes.
you always leave in a hurry
almost like you despise
yourself or i?
how could i ever know
you promise to never leave
then you just go
your intentions may not be to deceive
but that doesn't stop you, no
Why can't everything that is,
Stay humble and lining...
Always be as it is.
Rather that, not and mis-sought
Why don't the beautiful spinning winds.
Stay out in the fields
Rather that, of riddles and destruction.
Why can't it all, just be...
The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Religious
How to say this briefly:
Firstly, find words for the inexpressible.
They do exist.
Here is the gist:
Each has components -
Churches, sects and cults, their creeds:
The claim of being chosen.
Pure spirit's -ality doesn’t seem to need
A system woven
Into scripture which professes knowing
What is best for all,
Where if you’re good you rise
And if you’re bad you fall.
The spiritual as an approach to life,
Seems to place the emphases
On unity within the mixture of beliefs;
On peace and joy, and getting these;
Transcendent over time and space
And, most of all,
A sense that you are face to face
With truth about reality,
Yet not impossible to give a voice to;
Love that comes, fear that goes!
Erotic, no. A loving kindness big & small,
Universal, – if you will,
That permeates, recalibrates,
Connecting to an All that’s spirit: All in all.
Practices to help along:
Meditation, psilocybin, prayer and song:
The mystical both caused or opened.
That said, non- theistic preference
Needs to be demystified, a road for genius, dunce.
Not piety, religion, magic, paganism, or god-based,
Not theological nor physical,
But meta-, deeply meaningful,
The core of all.
The Pleasant Difference ‘Tween The Spiritual & Religious 2.9.2017
To The Child Mystic II; The Processes: Creative, Thinking, Meditative II; Nature Of & In Reality;
You are still the most handsome man I have ever known. I wanted to tell you that, but I couldn't, I couldn't say anything.
You walked passed, and my whole body felt gone, the world around me went mute, you were only in my life for a second, yet you still managed to wreck havoc upon everything I have worked so hard to keep alive.
(January 24, 2017 // 9:51 PM)