"Renunciation is realizing that nostalgia for samsara is full of ****"*

-Trungpa Rinpoche

like children playing
basking in all that is unspoken
like the magic of laughter
or a nightmares decay

watching our faces change
sculpting them like clay
our lip corners linger upward
a metaphoric embrace

endorphins rushing
filling us freely
euphoric bliss has found it's way

it comes down to the forgotten fact
that we are all animals
simply mammals
acting as though our bones were made of chrome
our hearts were made of stone
and our homes were made of gold
instead
we are born with a soul
that needs nurturing to grow
never with a bar-code
we are not produced to be sold
how do we dare be so bold?
titling ourselves the smartest creatures ever to roam
in actuality we've become programmed weticos
all competing to fit the same unfulfilling molds
and to reach our conditioned goals
we spend our time
stabbing needles down the soft skin
of mother natures irreplaceable spine
repeatedly
allowing her to bleed out
slowly
over
and over
but while we all take turns
leaving our mark
we forget that we are her
all lost
in our purpose

it's true
fall never came
warmth turned into death
long before you unlearned my name
there is no fault, only
the soft plea of forgiveness
ringing out through all the grudges
I am left with

you've let the demons in
but you know that's not
where they really live
give your mind some time
to find a line
for those demons
to go stand behind
because your talent and heart
hold too much to waste
and to allow the hands
of defeat
to cup your face
means you've awarded
the opposition with first place
when actually
you've already won the race

it was the super moon
but all that kept me swooned
was you
without asking me to stay the night
you finished your cigarette
on the deck
and left

usually
I'd trail behind your bare feet
back to your sheets
and be comforted
knowing your body was mine to feel

slowly you're making it clear
that maybe it never was

so I sat beneath that beaming moon
and figured I should get used to my shadow
keeping me company

though you didn't think so
I knew what you meant
about not being able to fake
a friendship
or feeling
a complete lack of connection
in most interactions.
and when it isn't real
there is no desire to try
or pretend to enjoy
the company given.

so much less pressure
weathering it alone.

constant company,
to me anyways,
seems to mean insecurity
or a desperate need for attention
especially that of one
impacting on others negatively.

to reach,
or even begin to know,
your full potential
you must give time to yourself
with yourself
for yourself
and yourself alone.

what seems so soft
can hit you heavy if you let it

and only through the unknown

will you freeze in its immensity
it, balanced
while you, unsteady

remain open
not hollow, but empty
allow space
to exist without you
within you

falling back into
old ways of thinking
steadily
now, catching speed
returning
now, repeating
past habits
like saying, "I'm fine"
without blinking
haven't seen
anyone in awhile

like snow come spring
so stubborn
remaining in place
resisting change
clinging to the surface
when all thats needed is time to breathe
trying to grow but the buds are frozen cold
waiting for a chance to bloom
true colors covered with monotone blues

I say plants dance with the wind
you say they struggle to stay still

stop assuming you know

what others think
what others feel
what others need

start understanding

what you think
what you feel
what you need