It is so boring yet alluring,
So strong and weak in just a nick of time,
To drive all night without hesitation,
To come back in the morning with a broken spine.
To switch the role of a conqueror to victim,
And juggle stories to make up a perfect line.
In retrospect, come up with better answers,
To realize it's all a waste of time.
It is a moment of complete misunderstanding,
To fill the cranium with what is wiser to be off.
There is an end that points to the beginning of a new axis,
It turns upwards, completing the dimension of a cartboard box.

It is not gullible as paper, still able to be molded and reshaped.
One day a hopeless sufferer surrenders
And talks oneself out of the noxious place.
Outside the box, imagination blossoms peacefully
Without the coerced necessity to play within the walls.
New tales embark on unexpected journeys
Demanding the narrator be an explorer to behove.
To find out better moments in decisions.
To finish pointless crushing of the bones.
There is a start that shifts the living
After the point of no return.

In turns you change, let it change you.
A path you find, comes looking for you.
Eternity ever fleeting, of you.
So, just be you.
Free …alas

In Texas it's hot
In Chile it's not
Becuz climate change

The desert is dry
And clouds are high
Becuz climate change

If it rains or snows
Or if the wind blows
It's becuz climate change

Stop eating meat,
Or better yet, don't eat
Becuz climate change

Warm and full
My bubbly, baptismal vessel
Carries casked vanilla notes in its steam
A pillow of air
Keeps me from drowning
My ******* float and lift away
Brackish water covering near the totality of my body
As each teardrop rolls into the mixture,
Changes within me and its salinity
I struggle less to stay afloat

and just like that,
it's the first --
again.
a new month.
it's like a blank page
i dont want
to write on.

the calendar flips
its pages
like it's nothing,
but i can feel it --
the pressure
of doing it all better
this time.

new goals.
new lists.
new promises
i probably won't
keep.

everyone says
that it's a
"fresh start"
like thats supposed
to make me feel
hopeful.
happy.

but it honestly
just feels like
a reset button.
the one i never
asked for.

like change
i'm too tired
to chase.

There were words I loosed like doves in flame,
Believing then they sang my name.
They circled truths I thought were stone,
But time has taught me bone is bone.
It bends, it breaks, it mends anew,
And so, my thinking shifted too.

There were paths I carved with fervent feet,
Mistaking hunger for the heat.
I danced with shadows, dressed in pride,
I kissed ideals I now let slide.
Not out of shame, nor some disguise,
But from the way that wisdom sighs.

No, I wear no doubled face,
No costume stitched with sly disgrace.
I do not play at saint or sin,
But simply shed my older skin.
The soul, like sea, must ebb and swell,
What once was right may not still dwell.

Growth is not betrayal’s twin,
It is the echoing voice within.
That softens stone and clears the dust,
That asks, “What now deserves your trust?”
And so I rise, unchained from past,
Not fixed in marble, but made to last.

Judge me not by yesteryear,
But by the will that brought me here.
I bloom, I stumble, I redefine,
Each version still a thread of mine.
For even stars must shift their place,
And find new fire in endless space.

So let me change, and let it be,
A hymn to our humanity.
Not proof I’ve lost my truest hue,
But proof I’ve lived, and listened, too.

we built debris of memories,
passing feathers of bird, reflecting,
the love of refulgent stars.
hair fine as famine's child
turning from the breast of feed.

darling, I love being your prisoner.
hairs fades as our palms turn crooked and grey,
your cheeks feeds me orchard's ****,
every word you utter dances into
old hymns of puppy lovers anthem.
let me lay on your wavering sea,
chaos as you bite me,
an ache to be devoured,
silence to remember,
a kiss to soften marigolds sucker.

I am impulsive
I am strange
Lying in the bed I made

I am anxious
I am loud
I won't make my parents proud

I am restless
I am tired
I'm not one to be admired

I am obnoxious
I am trite
Burning bridges keep me warm at night

I am indecisive
I am sure
Enjoying what I haven't earned

I am curious
I am afraid
Cleaning up a mess I made

I am grateful
If I am at all
I have no regrets that aren't absolved

there's probably something
far deeper at work here
something quite important
and worth delving into
to be explored more
thoroughly
consequentially
consciously

instead i'll probably
just end up thinking about
that shoelace in my boot
the one that still
needs to be replaced
ragged and frayed as it is
and i'll wonder how long
i can ignore it before
it finally snaps
and i'm left with
no choice anymore