Stand before the world, for it is your stage. Speak truth, for it is your conscience. Stand tall, so you might be seen. Speak slow, so others may take note. And bow only when life itself ceases.
oh little tree you are my favorite skinny in the most unwanting way one season? two? to know for certain would be the end of you, my inanimate love
feelings you cannot have joys you will never feel but nourishment and growth breathe life into you like the wind through your lost leaves
do not change please never before have i seen leaves such as yours i walk by twice a day sometimes six always in even numbers, for one can only go so long as one comes back.
immortal my soul ever changing my shell dark skies be our time lacking the ability to witness what will forever be a secret rather special if only brief i will not with certainty let you see me weep once more in a place created from love enough to mark it holy will i yearn for you or will i mourn for me
on my back in a pack are my glasses for seeing in my hands like a sleeping child, my laptop shoes without traction I slip three seconds to swing onto my back? or accept falling on my face? natural selection no longer exists therefore I choose the back I can exist for days with visions of haze however without my laptop I feel I would be lost.
we stay within confines constructed of fear why we do not leave is mysterious on its own for we find ourselves stuck reluctant to change be it fear that things will be worse? or be it fear that they will be far better than ever before?