Believe me, we've been here before
We skated the fringe
And now it's sure that there's no way back

But back is for *******
The unknown is the ultimate game

We're not pretty
You've been mutilated by what they all think
for far too long

Its time to be free, be brave - it'll never be so
Until we make it so.

We sit in these walls
With a million doors pressing closed

They close until you stand up
and pry with your ****** fingers
at least one door open

Even a crack can let in the light.

Im sick of prying with ****** fingers - I want this door flung open now!

Ive felt a few feelings in my life
None that didn't do me help
None that didnt lead me to this exact thought.

**** this im ******* done!

Ive discovered who and what
Its the where and how thats staggering
In circles in front of me
Running like the headless chicken

That i assume is me
But its not
Im in full spectrum

At least i honestly feel like i am

Ive been tricked into a destiny that has no piece in my puzzle

And i have to be brave enough to be all my own parts

That's what they all fear the most

Let be those
Who judge you

Pretending is the hardest game
And im not its number one player

I know thats ok

Its ok

Ive done my mending and changing - as i grow towards my light

How do i do all this ****?
Its confusing
Its bothering

How do you try sow new seeds
Or even mend to the old ones
when someone took a great fat stinking **** in your garden?

I suppose
You have to shovle the **** out
Repurpose it into a sort of fertilizer

Yet i still need to source the mud
& some how you got to keep those seeds safe
& the few buds you have,
some how they need to stay alive

And its wrenching my heart
& i want to pull it out of my chest
& lay it down in some tool box

Perhaps for hands that know how to do with it better.

Its been a tough thought lately
Things keep constantly changing
As they should

As life mills over another season
We stand
Waiting to reap from the seeds we had sown

Waiting for consistent reality to
do something different
spark a little sort of essence

Residing somewhere beneath a cold skin

Singing for sweet sweet nothing's

Always hoping for a sensual happening

This is where we stop to think -
Dont think, this mosquito is ******* me off
Right brain sting

Im going to go work on my pc

But lastly,

never stop seeking.

Some want to be remembered
for their touchdown record.
Some want to be remembered
for their body count.
Some want to be remembered
for their brilliance.
But I want to be remembered
for my kindness.
I will admit, I look back and remember the boy who always scored the touchdowns that always made our student section roar and fill with happiness.
I will admit, I look back and remember the girls who told funny, yet repulsive stories about their adventures of sleeping with random guys.
I will admit, I look back and remember the brainiacs and how they could make something as minuscule as a piece of gum a deep conversation starter.
But I will also admit, that looking back they have no significance to me.
Looking back, I remember the people who were kind above all else, I think of those people more frequently and hope they are doing well.
I remember those people and admire them for staying positive in a world so hopeless and full of hate and negativity.
I remember those people and feel a little less alone and know that they would be there if I called.
I wonder if those people are out in the world right now, spreading even more positivity and making others feel a little less insignificant.
I aspire to be remembered by kindness.

It's much easier to write them love letters
Than to say what's truly wrong
It's much easier to hold them
And hope they feel the same inside
It's much easier to turn a blind eye
Because it's much easier to love someone
Than constantly find their faults

Its much easier to hold onto joy
Than only ever listen to the chiming of the sorrow filled gong

Because it's much easier to wear your heart on your sleeve
Its much easier to be the one who gives
Rather than the one to receive