they say fake it until you make it
I faked being happy and alright
have I made it yet
sometimes the answer is yes
and sometimes it's a no
content to sad
to content
a small rollercoaster
or emotions
way more manageable
than how it used to be
it was euphoria to despair
to terror to content
then do it all again
it was mania now its productivity
the change is drastic
but a welcome one at that

the morning
chores,
a chorus,

a litany,
a recital,
of old, worn
words
familiar
well worn
ungloved
fists of firsts

a deep drink
of 11.5 ounces
of a cold spring
water shocking
in~vigor~ates

rebalancing a
sleep induced
deficit

a gloried yawn,
an exhalation
of the overnight
staleness, an
expulsion of
stale residue
residuals,
leftovers
of a prior
life, dismissed,
yet clinging
to your body

in vain
desirous
to be
remained
part of
the landscape
of your
plain

as part of
your
grandfatherly
accumulations

but there’s
only so much
room
in your
container,
and all
your liquidities
must be replaced

that takes space
for the
fresh withholdings

so.
drink deep,
replace the
fluids unique
that operate
your systems

and all the
rest
will flow,
stream easy

the wordplay is **** serious,
fools curse us, attacking empathy
for its sensuous to their BS pretensions,
their hypertension sophistry compounds their

selling them selves  as a holy sphere,
begging for attention and the approval
appetizers of meaningless internet
bacchanal celebrating

I invite you in,
where depths surface
asking you to scratch deeper
than the shallows of egoism shoals

long labored to persaude with caution,
careful disclaimers, when you enter
our first encounter, that first most
dangerous embrace, asking you
to tag along inside insights
my intent plain, secrets
displayed with increasing
the leveling tween twice
an armful of hugs

this criticism disturbs my calm,
and so I repeat twice:

grant us the write to share, in our humanity

**grant us the write to share, in our humanity

It's fascinating
That I keep coming back here.
When my heart breaks
And the darkness seeps in,
When there seems to be
No one to talk to
I come here
And I talk to myself.
I let strangers read the words
That no one can hear.
Even when they spill out of my mouth.
I come back to connect
With my true nature
And to those,
I dont even know their names.
So...I think I'll always be here.
So I can always be free.

To those honored poets,
An opportunity has opened up,
I'd like to spread this gospel,
Of a chance to reach new horizons,
Well beyond this world,
Now gather if you dare,
Join and journey to a new place.