Tap into a new state of mind,
there you may find
something worth your time.

You've said that you just don't know
what it means to see growth.
It's rather slow.

I missed
the good and the bad,
the happy and the sad.
They passed me by.

But these walls still
whisper your name,
it's becoming a game;
staying ignorant.

Honestly not much has changed.

Just little things like
rodents uncaged.

It's tough deciding
whether I miss you or not.

It's a lonesome matter,
and I'm just a selfish ****.

I don't miss the mania,

I don't miss the mania.

What defines it?
Is there an innate sense
of purpose
grafted into the drywall?
Is it an undefined longing
for solitude,
for a little time?

I'll find it.
Coated with pine needles,
desperate for fresh lumber.
I'll find it buried
beneath seven years of therapy,
slathered in liquid doubt.
Dripping.
I'll find it dripping.

I ain't looking any harder today
than I was yesterday,
but I swear that I'll find it.

It ain't the trees,
ain't the grass either.
Ain't the cityscape
or the skyscrapers.
It ain't the movies
or the fancy music.
Ain't the games
or any gadgets.

It's the sky.
That's what I'm in it for.
The blue
and the white.
Fluffy and infinite.
Gradient and stolid,
whether rain or shine.
Vast and welcoming.

She's the sky.
She's the blue,
the infinite.

She's the,

the...
well...

She's the sky.


I wander in her.

Buy as much paint as you want.
Everyone will don a coat of rust.
It ends up stylish, dark,
red and robust.
But,
buy as much paint as you want.

A paltry show of effort,
a slight scent of something rotten
wafting in through the breezeway.

When you thought it was finally over,
did you close the book shut tight?
Where do you write the rest of your story
if there are no more pages left?

Do you wane
in the face of
such shame?

You were true
to you,
I remember that much.

Now no one knows.
No one can tell just
where the road goes.

Life paints it's story
in broad brush strokes of light.
Sun rays, incandescent bulbs.
Fire.
I know colors
are just light.

While I slept,
you went away,
and brilliant light
filled the place
where you used
to play.

I need a war.
We all need a war.
A real war too, not this
falsified and opaque war
on terror or whatever the ****
we've been doing for the past
twenty years in the desert.
Give us something bigger
to ******* ***** about.
Give us good verses evil.
Something more meaningful
than this curse called the internet.
Give us something to die for,
in a violent and ****** rage.
Give us some meaning,
give us a new age.