Do you remember D?
He was awesome.
I can't say I knew him.
All I can say is I wish I was there.
And an artist can romanticize the end
As much as a child cries about being born.
D,
Was about everything in-between.
A laugh for the sake of a laugh.
He was divinity on earth encased in the flesh of a comedian before his time.
He was the moment I realized my myopic lens was shifted in a non righteous view.
Why?
He showed my that when I look at the bright side.
The shadows never compare to the landscape.
He always kicked my *** at magic.
He was a lesson and gift.
The coolest guy I knew.
My biggest regret is knowing I didn't have to make time.
I was the idiot who didn't listen to the man, who knew we always have time.

In a moment
without  rational momentum
you declared,
you didn't care
and that's fair
but in regards to actuality
and physicality.
I'm sorry I've been damaged
Rearranged  to fit implementation than rationality.
I'm sorry i'm not ******
I'm sorry i'm not wanting
I'm sorry for being me.
I'm sorry for me.
I'm sorry for being me and you having to deal with it.
In perspective.
I only acted as you demanded
As I was reprimanded for my performance I saw a moment to repent.


I don't care to.

Remembering the death of yourself is as important as your birthday.
Do not forget the moments you spent devouring yourself for the contentment of others.
In remembrance, give memory to the times you've destroyed yourself for others.
what is more than you?
the others who've devoured themselves for you.
We've all got a cost; whether it's our plasma, body or emotions.
With this notion in mind, keeping in mind,
we ourselves are for sale.
Every transaction is not without gain and undoubtly with loss.
uncourtly as it may be. we find value in our transactions.
when we partake in putting weights on scales who's value only exists based on realities distorted by histories written by victors who don't care nor dare trace scars at two a.m.  and say.
...
...
...
I love you.
Because eight letter sentences don't make happy endings. actions speak louder than words so what the hell are we saying? who are we portraying  when we betray ourselves thinking eight letters can build a castle.

Memento mori  to the being who dies every day.

This is reality
It's not without burden and its not without wounds.
But the burden of living gives way to boons so flavorful and delightful.
I might die every day
Just to live once.

I don't have any more words to say.
I don't have anything wise enough to teach you something new.
I look back at the last three years and I consider what that looks like.
Is it merely two strangers that have savagely danced around our egg shells?
Merely two poker players with an understanding of each other who have no reason to hold face.
Was I merely just a tinder date you got too attached to or am I someone you recognize when you fall back on good times?
Am I merely a convenience like your disastrous inheritance.
Am I a grace and relief like your disastrous inheritance.
Either way I am the one that is disastrously here.
My value is that of a red ball to a dog who desires a single ball.
But,
forgets about it every time its thrown.
That was cold.
But you have been too.

it appears to be a sickness of the soul
in truth,
it is human to be a fool.
I hope to cultivate something that grows beyond me.
I hope to see something that towers me.
like an intensity enticed by agony but it's weight lifted of its immensity on the value of its words and the promise that continuously grows.

My dreams are enshrouded in a silk of death and destruction erupting into a curtain fire that blocks off a room of its single entry.
When awake I stand as sentry, bags on my eyes heavier than my body.

And those dreams that bare no nightmare.
All I can see is open skies and full seas.
untouched forests and no one else.
I just take in the moment and stare.
I brush my hands along the bark of every tree.
I take the time to reconcile with my self.

I've written love letters, suicide notes, inspirational essays, stories,
and most of all I've written poems.

Even so the feelings come and go.
and that's what I do,
I just go.
You see Taoism has taught me some things.
Go with the flow.
I am most useful when my mind is clear.
The things I hope to keep become my fear.
so I let it go.

I let it go,
Not like rocks in a river only to be dredged up by passing currents
But like the words I've committed to parchment
that happiness and sadness are life's concurrence

If given the chance;
Should we not be better than our parents?
These people who live like the earth is theirs;
Like tyrants.

Patricide beneath us,
Grace taught from our disgrace
Peace made from grief,
Strength bonded through the clench in our teeth.

I thought us a different breed,
As childish as it may be to hear or read,

But I thought us different
A bloodline of heroes forgotten to times passing.
People who's sole reason was to bring out the soul in others.
That honor was doing the right thing when no one else was watching.

I know god has pried his eyes away when we needed him most.
But should we be so willing to do the same and give way to suffering and pain and just raise a glass and toast?

It was a child's dreams,
Borrowed from books on our grandmothers shelves with loose seams.
A book about us,

That we would rise above our parents and be the things they couldn't.
That we could stop history from going to the future where it shouldn't.

I thought we were different
but maybe you're right,
life is indifferent.