Do you remember when tunneling ravines would flow through our stomachs before we spoke out into the open?
And how vigorously tapping our feet felt like the only way to shake the mountains, daring to bury us alive...
or how when cold shoulders felt like judgment harmonized
and yet the dissonance euphonized in our ears as we swept our heads back into the open arms of the universe,
engulfed by inescapable laughter  

Now things are different; you wear your heart on your sleeve, washing the shores of people and things that scare you with your perpetual confidence,

and I proudly observe in wonder and admiration...

Distantly tapping my feet, fighting ravines, and laughing alone.

I saw a little car today
zooming past my window

It was so small
yet it moved so quickly; unafraid

a bigger car approached it
swerving just before the crash

but there it stood resilient
waiting for its turn to go

and all I could think was:
how do I be more like that?

I’ve seen
life **** the
marrow and steam,
from the hearts
that screams
waking to nightmares
from other bad dreams.

I’ve seen sorrow
spin and spill
the bottle
that makes
them feel ill.

I’ve seen chunks
come up
as fools pay the
the steep price
for late night
gotta get a life
fun time
gone wrong.

I’ve seen the road
that consumes
a broken body,
a choking
toking
player
spending his last chip
just to spit nasty bits
and end it.

I’ve seen horror,
but being blessed,
I got to wake up
less depressed then when
I fell asleep crying.
I lived while
others were dying.
I got knack for surviving.
despite all the crap I have seen.

In an aesthetic coffee shop,
Scribbling away with glee.
Drinking to my imagination,
Is it only me?

In this aesthetic coffee shop,
Where lovers often meet.
I hear fragments
of what their life has been.

Talking over coffee,
They think they are strangers to me.
I observe,I know,
I share their happiness, a witness to their vows.

Sadness and pain,
Sometimes the outcome may be.
But they still come to this coffee shop,
Unknowingly drinking with me.

I am not the only one,
Voila,it's not just me!
There are other artists in this coffee shop,
Observing and scribbling like me.