The silence means more than the sound
An eye sees more than is told
A heart hears the colors of meaning
Bright, sacred light in every hue
I remember that I am not lost
Nor found, just myself passing along
Corridors woven by my ancestors
And each day, I find a new path
Destiny is not in its meaning
To reify destiny is to end
To deify destiny is to lose control
To find destiny, is to transform
So often I find myself wondering
Through a kalidescope of possibilties
Just to settle on
The meaning of me.
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 4:04 AM UTC
Time weaves itself slowly
I find myself passing
By the strands of copper
The diamonds unfound in the rough
The dreams I have awakened
The peace that has slept
Long gone are the days of memories
A dawn of becoming rises with fury
I no longer remember
The me who died
In your arms
I belong elsewhere
I fondly recall a narrative
The truth still yet unbeknownst to me
Would I remember if I cared?
The answer was beneath me all along
I cannot scream the way I did before
I can only breathe one breath at a time
And for awhile, I thought that breath became two
In the middle of the winter nights with you
Belief is held in the darkest chambers
Yet we choose only to share our lightest moments
Would you not regret knowing me?
If I had told you the truth
I never once asked you to believe me
I only asked you to percieve me
And if in the shadows of doubt you caught me
You would only find regret
Deeply, I wander the circles in my mind
Each trace I find traces of you
And honestly, through and through
I know you loved me too
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 4:03 AM UTC
I broke in half
Shattered, the pieces remain
Torn, by forces inside
Annihilated, by the world outside
Yet I still become
Less wary
It doesn't end
It unfurls before me
And before long I'll be in the sky
Dec 19, 2025
Dec 19, 2025 at 4:02 AM UTC
“Breathe, Exhale, Breathe”
I had the words to this poem
In my mind at some point
Before I breathed them all out
One at a time
Uncontrollably
I’m trying to turn on light bulbs
By setting the filament ablaze
And drying my hair with a blowtorch
Doesn’t seem like such a bad idea
If red is the color of fire
And blue is the color of water
It’s really no surprise that
My favorite color is purple
Inside my mind there is a lake
Clear, calm, undisturbed
Reflecting the unmoving clouds
In the overcast sky
I walk around with my head down
Hiding under an umbrella
Pockmarked by the bullets
That it didn’t block
It never lets the sunshine in
Only the rain
If people are so scared of the cold
The heat, the rain, the hail
The storms and the snow
The wind and the night
Why am I terrified of the walls
And the ceiling in my room?
If I were drowning in the ocean
Instead of screaming for help
Or swimming to the nearest shore
I’d probably try to run away from the problem
I’d never want to be a cartographer
I drew a map of my mind once
It’s a little circle in the middle
The rest scribbled out by permanent marker
For the places I haven’t explored
There’s ash on my hands
From trying to dig out the memories
That weren’t set ablaze
By the thoughts in my mind
I don’t know where I went
It’s somewhere mixed in
With the rough carbon copies
That I keep for reference
In the depths of my subconscious
My mind’s eye has gone colorblind
All my thoughts are black and white
The grey reprieves the monotony
Until I start to think about it too much
And rip up the canvas
On days like today it feels like
I fell asleep behind the steering wheel
Years and years ago
And slipped off into an unpleasant dream
Where I’m still alive
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 6:12 PM UTC
Life is beautiful, ain't it?
Even with the splinters on the plastic table
And the trail of cigarette smoke
That only blows westward towards the sea
But still manages to curl in ribbons around my fingers
Even with the empty glare of the fall sun
Filtered like water through the haze of Los Angeles
Caressing the blanket of foliage
That wraps suburbia in her deep sleep
Still, the cracks in the porcelain sidewalks
Are the ashtrays for all of our dreams
In the obsidian dust - sterilized fallout
Life is still beautiful, ain't it?
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:43 PM UTC
The streetlights march like soldiers
Berets raised to an empty cause
A forgotten dictator;
He left like the sun
The clouds sit on balconies
Listening to the eulogy
Read by the soft spoken wind;
It whispers unspoken wishes
The lowlight like limelight
Against a backdrop in decay
The paint peeling;
The ceiling damp with rain
I sit and drink the air above me
And so the ground beneath tells me
In hushed breaths:
"The shadows will soon belong"
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
The trees are ticking
Winding the soil beneath
The leaves flutter away the minutes
The branches point to midnight
The roots flung against the gears
Centuries grinding to a halt
Apr 6, 2015
Apr 6, 2015 at 5:32 PM UTC
As I drift on the edge of sleep
Where my desires and reality converge
Like wet sand on the beach
Left behind by the receding tide
To either fizzle out slowly in summer's sun
Or be blown dry by winter's wind
Bubbles of foam seep out from beneath the grains
They form thoughts, and then they pop...
Silently.
Does a bubble make a sound when it pops?
Do we care about the demise of such a fragile object?
Aren't our lives just like a bubble?
My eyelids flutter open and closed
Micro-sleep is only a term that constantly awake people use
If we're supposed to sleep a third of our lives
Where does the difference in the estimated time go?
Moments in this wee hour of night or morning
Where I'm drowning in a sky of my own thoughts
Am I really alive?
Or is this a lucid dream?
The answer is unknown
I'm already asleep
Jan 7, 2014
Jan 7, 2014 at 4:15 AM UTC
Sipping lukewarm coffee
On the second floor
Looking out the arched windows
A neutral, crisp winter morning
Trees all but filled with leaves
Their shadows painted against the tan canvas
Of the buildings across the street
I could be in any town right now
And nobody would be able to guess which
A glance across the table
Confirms you're not here
It really doesn't matter what town I'm in
As long as we're both there
And there's two story coffee shops
For us to sit down in on mornings like these
Jan 4, 2014
Jan 4, 2014 at 4:27 AM UTC