My forefathers gave me
My spirit’s shaken flame,
The shape of hands, the beat of heart,
The letters of my name.

But it was my lovers,
And not my sleeping sires,
Who gave the flame its changeful
And iridescent fires;

As the driftwood burning
Learned its jewelled blaze
From the sea’s blue splendor
Of colored nights and days.

death is life

when a star dies, it falls inwards
following a miraculous explosion

death isn't life because
life ends in death

death is a spark
of a beginning,
a push...
towards being
what you were meant to be

life isn't unknown, a mystery
it is just hidden, child's play
and those equipped with a childlike fascination
will disobey norms and willingly search for
and crawl through the rabbit hole

while coming to the conclusion
'logic' has been taught
to work around only physicality

expand
like the universe

The angels of death
Kiss us softly, briefly, each night.
They taste our ripening flesh
Lick their lips
Cackle to one another
Anticipating the final moment
When they may purge their desire
Devour us
Full mouth and tongue

Tonight's round of temptations...
They missed me.

I admit to having been one to use the word "they" as if something exists outside myself.
Gaze fixated on projections, in order to find my help
The biggest illusion, is that of separation.
I realized eye was the doctor, rather than just the patient.
Everywhere you look is a mirror.
Walls soon dissolve connecting you to beautiful tones you choose to hear.
The physical world consists of atomic constructs filled with space,
Dive deep within the void for a transcendental taste as you ride new wavelengths and embody strengths you didn't know you possessed.
Majority of your electromagnetic field emits from the beat in your chest.  
Act with your heart, and let out all you've suppressed.  
There's an infinite amount of ways we can think to perceive the given test.  Create your own questions for answers that will fill you the best, as you astral project, exploring the universe with a body at rest. The paper in this book is entirely yours to sketch.  Eye am you as you are everything, eternally blessed.

My body is a ****** place to be
So come on mind: set me free
I've been everywhere of course
And doctors take a lot of force
"Take this pregnancy test" "it's anxiety"--
I should know, it's my body!
Existence is a strange thing
When body pain becomes your king
Orders "lie down, no don't eat that!"
I'm trying to tame this spoilt brat
Won't you settle down now OH PLEASE!!
I THOUGHT I WAS FINE, you're just a tease.
So, mind, do me a favour
With my body let's sign a waiver
Saying you behave or I'm off elsewhere
Know what, YOU CAN DEGRADE FOR ALL I CARE

I'll sing of all the ways I miss you
and how this sorrow came to be
the verses, lies I should have whispered
the chorus, truths in harmony.

The melody will break the silence
and call your broken heart to me
to be repaired by love unyielding
to broken hymns in minor key.

We danced toward
each other's wounds

with gentle step
and touched inside

and now the bleeding
has resumed

and all this blood
is hard to hide.

Perhaps I will become a waxing fiend.
A perpetrator of the nerves within my legs
In order to reach the imaginary beauty
that society has ingrained into my open mind.
Yet how can I ever fulfil this growing hole inside
Urging, commanding that I shall not be beautiful
Without Revlon mascara and tinted eyebrows,
That my diet must consist of a celery stick a day
And I must have a new wardrobe every week
- to keep in with the highest of fashions.
Do men really care if I'm wearing Gucci or Prada?
Would my restricted diet and devotion to thinspiration blogs impress them?
Has society really just given up on the love of personality,
the good old fashioned 'inner beauty'?