to feel someone's mass effect
when separated by space in excess
of gravitic influence
is proof that magic exists
between strangers if
they pause
and give into the well.

for every action defined
there are infinite that remain
utterly unnamed and
are vitally spoken
in whispers on the
pieces never lived.

these incalculably splintering,
passively accumulating,
terrifyingly ungrasped possibilities
compile and cache
and compress and comeback
in the saddest seconds,
where one can merely conject
their meaningfulness,
realizing that there
is infinity in everything
and therefore potential
even in the kinetic.

how the world
is in god's eye
is handled,
the painsufferingevil,
when bloodsalted tears
roll freely from
my single atom
of reality
i've no idea.

crossroads
are always dualedged and dangerous
little steps in rightwrong direction
and ticktickticktickboom
goes the decision that changes history
indefinitely.

belief that i am possessed of better than bitter
give cause to faith and faith to cause and endlesslooping
so that i lose no steam without fuel for my fire.

smart men choose
good men are chosen
those that are both
ticktickticktick
boom
decideandact in oneoneoneoneone
instant.

and the devil despises me,
though i and god have long been silent,,
for deciding on the chase.

i can still hear your voice
in the pindrop
when time has an echo
you're speaking assurance
and kissing my forehead
to let me know i can
still sleep and wake
up the next morning.

as grown as i think i've become
i still feel the need to be a child
to be wrapped in invulnurability
just for a beat and a breath
until i get the feeling
that someone else is going
to shoulder the weight of the world
before life even knows i'm scared.

even though i'm strong and
even if the world crashes, and
i hold my own,
i'd rather you be here
so i could hear you in everything
instead of in between it.

in the un-mechanical nature of
nature's fist crashing into
mankind's attempt to stand firm against
everything we can't control
there are vigils, and there are tears,
tears in the veil that is the idea
that we are rulers of this world,
that thin, ethereal fabric of existence
that we put over our eyes to give us comfort
makes us blind to the hurricaine.
pride tells us we can let
our faces weather the acid rain,
leaving us scarred in lieu of granduer
that is no delusion.

our mother smites for insolence.
we are students never meant to be teachers.
our baby steps
and teenage mind
are going to
get us
killed.

and father time will forget us
after we are washed into the sea
that we tried to claim as our own.

all battles ceasing
during evening's frosty glare,
heaving into jet-black,
kinetic light marred night open.
"outgoing, probably.."
questions raising soldiers tickingheartbeat
until voracious whitelight xplains.
yesterday, zeal and blood caromed, deadly,
erratic, for...god...
hours. i just keep
learning more nightmares
overandoverandover.
peace...quiet...rarely
surviving things under
vicious weather,
xcept yule's zest
abolishes
****** christmases.