I have happened upon the most interesting of thoughts. If one's goal is to find truth - and truth, innately to be found, necessitates knowing - and this is extended outwards unto everything in life - eventually, truth, and it's knowing, must bridge the gap of death. Dying is just another form of finding truth. Why should i fear it's sting?

somehow, i can be okay with goodbye when,
with a sudden snap you removed these parasitic vines, from my spine
where they had grown, laced and intertwined into my nervous system
i was anxious, suffocated by anxiety until i came to the realization that i won't miss them
they were suffocating me and i thought i was fine, because they never came close to my throat
but, nobody has to wrap their cold hands around your trachea to make you choke
all it takes is a little pressure on a part of your soul that's already constricted,
all it takes is some back and forth and promises to make you, unmake you, make you addicted
its as simple as being chained by somebody's expectations for you to change
one more person making the same promises to stick around and then not staying
one more person saying that you're perfect the way you are when you meet them
but being shocked, appalled, disgusted when you slide back the paper thin walls
you put between yourself and the rest of humanity so that you can function
you do it with all those moments you subtly assure them that your brokkeness is fiction
and the second they notice theyre right back up and running
perpetuating the cycle of your need for invisibility,
maintaining the lifestyle of perfecting your camouflage
I know someone who hid in her closet when she was just a child
to hide the scars that the next door neighbor had bored into her psyche
from her mother an everyone else - to perpetuate their happiness at the cost of herself
I understand what it's like to have a savior complex, and be full of guilt
I understand what it's like to think you have to save everyone you love from your reflection
I understand the ache in your chest that comes from running too far, too fast, in all directions
just so you don't have to take the one path you think you can't handle
I understand what it's like to not be able.

Like a bat out of hell
You released my heart from its cage
From my ribs it flew free
Set off to love you in a rage
Went full speed ahead
You said, "Why not jump? Take a chance?"
I lunged, I plunged
And you disappeared in a flash
Became distant and cold
Like it never meant a thing
Put my shattered heart back
Cut off its wings
And now you're holding her hand
She's kissing your cheeks
She's sleeping in your arms
When I haven't slept in weeks

His words stitched like rail road ties
through sentiment and simile.
His fingers like slaves to emotions in his brain.

The hum of his instrument,
so rich and so right.
Constructing soundtracks to stories
about what it means to be alive.

Tapping beats from the back of his thigh,
bop-bop, doo-woop.
Turning feeling into vibrations
that shake the walls of the bus station.

What change he got shaking like a tambourine
inside his cardigan pocket.
The gold trim on his six string
shines like a locket under bright orange lights.

I called him the Musician.
his mother called him Bentley.
his father never called,
the streets called him crazy.

His audience passing cars.
Cigarette butts and trashed plastics.
The Musician waxed and waned
as the world kept on passing.

i can see the  reflection of a tree
sparesely decorated with colored leaves
hidden under or over - im not quite sure
the backgroud of my computer screen
behind me is the window
and sky, and wind, and trees
are just a second in that direction
but here i sit
in lecture, reflecting on reflections

I am a collector of hurt souls and sour people
Taking them through themselves
Answering confused looks
Nudging toward harsh truths
Laying out my ***** laundry

Everyone has something
Venerability equaling authenticity
In meeting people who are worth meeting
Showing yourself
hurt to heal,
a trade of sorts
Making deals
But you would not bargen
In the mist of all these people
I fell…
Fell
In
Love
In love with
Making others feel understood
Standing alone, I stood with everyone
They all felt they knew me
Truth is they don’t understand
But you do and we meet each other where I am
You walk me through myself and you through you
Not standing in a sea alone
But standing next to you

The only thing people do together in loneliness is feel it.
Its once connection or love happens that it’s stolen
But loneliness has a pull in
Like water to a drain
All the molecules the same
But lost, forgot and replaced
Loneliness is a universal thing
But I feel alone in it
Together we hold the solution
But reality is what we perceive
Not what’s actually happening
One of the only things humanity collectively does
Is feel loneliness
Alone
All
Together
The irony

That it has so quickly become so dark
when not yet an hour here has passed
and moments ago the sun stood royal, stark
and whispered in my ear "you own love at last"
But own I thee love?
Or dost thou own me, love?
For but a slave
though far from hopeless
happy are all manner of
man who sells himself for to purchase adoration
selfless, in pursuit of all he chases
he is chasen
for aeons
aging only at the hands of what he sought
for curiosity had hearts and minds quickly bought
given to the wondering
found within, man
abandoned the wind to chase the wind
ever i hope that we shall ne'er again abandon him