In my nightmares
I pay too many taxes,
And I am also abandoned forever,
But the taxes are hurting most.

Soul, trascendental tether to infinity
Voice of instincts & individuality
Ever will I endeaver to reflect this inner self in my personality
Allow this abstract apparition to cast its ambitions through my identity
We all begin with the same block of stone, family carving away deliberately, often in fits of spontaneity
Every person we touch takes a piece away and impacts our reality.
Now we're old enough to carve our souls into actuality
Its been within me since my infancy still I struggle to perpetuate its conceptuality
On occasions when I can summon its voice to my lips its gone just as quickly & I mourn for the brevity
All I'm left with in my renderings is a fragile, frugal effigy -how could a mortal hope to attain the likeness of divinity?

More often than not my machinations are little more than fragmented ruminations and disjointed alliterations

Occasionally preoccupied by rhyme, reason, or cravings for another season

Color and light dancing against the doodles left dog-eared among the daily drudgery crowding my deliberations

Purposefully thinking my thoughts more thoughtfully in these days of superficiality and commercialized faux reality

Deliberate silences budgeted between listless noise. On days when everyone's vying for vocal real estate & everyone's talking with nothing to say.. I take a fast from my voice.

I withdraw from myself, deep within my mind.. I attempt to reconcile with that girl I was -forgive myself for letting her leave again. How can I come back to her after what we've been? I've lied to her too many times for her to let me back in.

our transaction history:
pleasure between keyboard strokes,
stolen moments, momentary wave.


the absence of heat and the heat of absence:
hand between thighs, love between sheets,
every day is the first day of my life.