why look to the sky for answers
when life is all around? why even utter a sound, when the only person that really needs to heed your words and hear your thoughts, is you?

what do you do when the only thing left for you to do is pray?

you say your prayers
by writing them down
and live your life a better way.

To scream out loud or write it all down?

A decision, left to the extremity of the undying emotion of the mime inside...

What one wants to say,
what one has to say,
and what one needs to say,
all seem to separate for a limited amount of time but, once the seconds tick down on the time bomb that lies waiting for
just
the right
situation,
all the words seem to come together to create quite the show.

Out of the roots,
up the stem,
through the leaves
and then exploding from within,
seeping out of the pores like a volcanic eruption.

Dormancy to activity.

And, all of a sudden,
"what I should have said"
turns into
"Oh my! What did I just say?"

A timeless, priceless transition from over-powering self-confidence to reflective self-doubt occurring instantly; but, the bullets cannot and should not go back inside the unloaded, smoking Desert Eagle, better known as the mouth or even the pen, of that restless individual.

Whether at the ears or at the eyes, the shots have been fired and are, now, making their way to the brain, to the mind, and, eventually, to the heart.

So,
for better or for worse...
...a toll is taken.

Do I even want to participate in life anymore? I contemplate, not killing myself, but disappearing. I swear I could summon something to come into my life and just take over my soul. Ok, not really. . .I just have no clue what to write about anymore. And, man, I gotta tell ya, as a writer (and I know that’s a lot of commas), this is like the lowest of low. To write is my only job. It’s supposed to be my passion. And, to see that I’m too drugged out and not educated enough to have a steady flow of intelligent ideas to share with the world to make it better for the next generations, it just hurts my soul. But not really, cause I’m high. I can’t really tell or feel that I’m in pain until I’m off the drugs and out of money. My two highs. Drugs and money. What happened to the guy who wanted to achieve a happy and content life without those things as a necessity. . .? Where’d he go? The real Hippie Steve. You wanna claim to be this peaceful and cool guy who thinks logically and morally yet intelligently. Yet, you still fall into the same habits as those around you that you complain about on a daily basis. You are no better than the next guy. And, though you already know this, you do not act like it. It’s ridiculous just how neglectful you’ve been to your own health. Mental and physical. For what? For the high to keep going? What kind of a high is it? Tell yourself, tell me, what is it that you are working towards? What is it that you’re close to achieving? What is it that you are on track to finish? Besides a slow and ingratiating death, what else have you promised for yourself in this life? NOT A **** THING! And that needs to change! Stop talking about it. Take some writing courses online and do some writing exercises. Think outside the box. Create the app. Create a portfolio for freelance writing. Create your own ****!!! So you can work on your own and hire people and invest and all that fancy ****. Just go do it.

I went to sleep
(right next to you)
alone.

Then I woke up and I was still
(right next to you)
alone.

I wanted to check my phone.
(no texts from you)
I'm still alone.

I want you home.
(what's left of you?)
I know, I know, I got
(the best of you)
issues, I'm wrong.
(what's best for you?)

But, I just want to know
(the rest of you)
if you'll come home.

soft grass in a field,
golden sun in the air,
fair weather in the atmosphere,
no annoying bugs.

I am miserable.

I thought this field was able to support me,
and I thought that natural light was truly colorless,
and I didn't think that anything in life was really fair,
but, I still wanted all the bugs to be my friends. to shake it up a bit.

I curse the world for voting all at once.
the green grass, the golden sun, the blue sky,
the disappearance of foreign bodies. this world
already had a preconceived idea of what
a perfect world was like.

it's like I chose to be eccentric. like you all decided
differently from my decisions. making me the villain

but, this is my life.
and I cannot do what is wrong.
meaning, I am not capable of bending to your rules.
my senses do not react to this universal stimuli
in a universal way. I am an individual. I react
individually.

and, so, every part of this human being reacts individually
but, decides, as one, that each of those reactions
needs to be included in this body. that each part is worth working with
to make it all work. together. as one.

that's the way it should be. . .

perhaps, one day,
once we cease,
some of us
will become the stars

perhaps,
some of our vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife
————————————————
a flawed determination
of iridescence

a dimming, purpose:
to accentuate


a life appears to be
worth losing
life appears to be
worth more


inspiring hopes
of replication

aspiring, hope
to just feel known

without a promise

chance
to follow

dimmed in anguish

storied in peace

presenting, over all,
a flawed
determination of luster
—————————————————
perhaps, one day,
we’ll all become
the brightest of stars
and all vibrations
will carry over
into the afterlife

can I grow tomorrow?
place a bucket over my head
to block the sun; protect my innocence
for a while. I'll grow tomorrow.
but, today. . .

I just wanna see the darkness
with my eyes open, in hopes
of understanding. I can be aware
of my surroundings, though I
do not see, distinctly, I can
tell that I'm surrounded.
something bigger than myself.
protecting me from what is good. . .
so that it won't become the bad. . .
protecting my naiveté.

just leave the bucket;
walk away.
I'll grow tomorrow.

"tread slowly. tread slowly.
'tis unholy to see freedom.

look around you. look around you.
see the world and all its bleeding.

say your prayers. say your prayers.
say your prayers with your eyes open.

don't lose focus. don't lose focus.
we are only what we notice."

~
somehow, I've ended up in this basement again.

this dreary little basement. it's my comfort zone, apparently.
each time I leave, I tell myself I must escape, to get away from comfort.

to get away from darkness that I've known my whole life,
I push and push my own body up these steps,
far too steep for fondness.
push, my self out of that comfort zone
over and over again in pursuit of light
to touch my skin and bring my pigment back,
to bring a little color back into sight . . .
I push my body to some limits it has never known
to break it free from this contentment.

step by step, go one by one;
that's the only way I'm able to keep this spirit moving forward.
slumber caused some stalling way too long.
I take it very slow now;
that's all that I can do now. . .
that's really all I do . . .

drift . . .
in and out of light . . . or maybe in and out of darkness . . .
losing consciousness . . . I'm no longer under surface.

this is foreign land.

I shy away to come right back inside this house,
I left my home to see this other side, and it . . .
just scares me, to be honest.

I'm shaking bad now,
but not just in my legs from lack of energy,
my whole body is quaking,
I'm withdrawing, falling back into this basement,
falling back into this comfort, falling back into this slumber,
going under . . .

and I don't even care
that I am no longer aware of my surroundings . . .
that other side was just too strange,
too far outside my boundaries.

perhaps, I'll try again, tomorrow,
if I get up
~

dressed in all black with a spirit to match.

brilliant scenery trapped
beneath the  surface of obsidian.

a haunted cave, a burning light,
enchanted rock, undying flame,
ignite the chamber, start again.

ignite the chamber, start again.

Leave me in the woods
and watch the grass
grow over my feet.
Place me on a cloud
and look at where I land.

Flames created souls in the gusts of wind,
A spark to start a life,
Sizzled and burned so bright with magical colors of vivacious orange, hypnotic red, luminescent yellows that would light up dark spots.
Visible to the naked two eyes of all who gazed, felt by the naked bodies of those standing in the way of the cold and naked bodies.
Feeling nothing but the dark grey smoke.
No light, no warmth.
Some began to choke as I inhaled with the whole of my mere existence, and basked in the gods of freedom.
Beautiful extraterrestrial wisps, peeling off in an unknown dance, choreographed precisely with the wind.
Thankful that they let me feel the smoke on my skin, its freedom engulfed my aura, taught it how to be, how to do, how to feel.
Its cool matched my cool during those few milliseconds of heaven where we met, tangoed, felt and understood, then dissipated in the dark as its father lied to rest, and we all felt the same cold in the same way on our naked bodies, at the same time.
While some had fun memories of colors, light, and warmth, I was left with a lingering feeling of what it's like to be free.
And a lesson on just how to get there.

Through the woods we floated hand in hand,
a cool breeze to dry up the puddles of our palms,
a night shade just dark enough to hide our amorous gazes,
though this sensation skipping through my veins
hides not my affection,
pulsing through from my body to yours,
and if it must reveal my love tale to you
I pray it bear no false witness.
I’ve fallen for you already, more than you know
and more than I’ll ever be ready to admit in words.
Lend an ear to your heart
and my beat shall be there to squander it all,
but from my lips you won’t hear a thing.
And as we are now gazing up at the stars,
the wind has hushed and the fireflies have gathered 'round,
you close your eyes and you make your wish.
From afar, hoping somehow these unexpressed expressions
are able to reach to the center of your essence,
I whisper to the wind...

bent over backward
to meet the requirements,
halo got caught in
afield, full of thorns.

was stranded, was folded,
with pressure,
was molded,
revealed and refocused,

a diamond of scorn.

the way that I'm treated when I can’t seem to understand makes me feel like less of a man. with outstretched hands I'm handed nothing; without a chance I won't be something.
who takes a stand behind
“the man who has no plan”?

I still see no one . . .

Supply me with the right amount of grace
to satisfy my longing.
Do not overwhelm me with your glory;
I have had enough.

*

Run away with all of my belongings,
rob me of my wanting.
Take away the greed that fills me up
and leave my barren body open . . .

glass is really a mirror;
unending reminders that what we see is what we are.

that, which we see, is that, which we are
and, we are all the same life.

we are all but one existence.
we are all the same breath.

we're truly not that different.

tell yourself, and all shall listen;
we are together. we are one.

heading in the right direction
makes me question,
“am I headed
in the right direction?”

I don’t know
but, I keep going.
never slowing
never looking back;
I have to stay on track.

I bought this one way trip to heaven
and I'm never coming back.

throughout his soul there is a blend
of monochromatic, a sort of automatic
and indefinite . . .

. . . black . . .

the soil of Mother Earth
seeps through to my skin
and I accept every last bit
because it's truly necessary
-------------------------------------
for me to just continue to lay here . . .
and to be able to feel the . . .

Earth family...accept every last bit of me...

and allow me . . .to just lay here . . .
and to be able to feel . . .
-------------------------------------
perhaps, acceptance
just might be the key
to what is concealed.

I have no clue of what to do
but I still choose to lace up my shoes
and pursue this journey called life.

So I start to cruise and sing the blues.

The hues too dark so they confuse you
and I will never brighten up or lighten up
my mood to protect the terrible twos of
this world.

They need the truth.

And if not from me,
and if not from you...
then who?

demons and angels.
horns and halos.
wings and wings.
even the pharaoh,
born with Plato,
sings and sings:

“I long for heaven
as well as hell.”

these aren’t just sevens,
they’re eights as well.
the time will tell.

—————————————

o’, thank the stars for darkness,
thank the lord for ghouls and goblins,
thanking god for satan’s roar?

playing the cards of hearts
to flash in clubs with diamonds,
save the spades and maybe score?

what more is said
for parity?

win the best and lose some more
for charity?

nevertheless and neverthemore
the wrongs go right
for parody?

enter a death
to save a life,
and lose the mind
to get to therapy?

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.

nothing is left for days
and nights bereft,
we fuss and fight
for clarity.

unparalleled level of questioning.
skeptical devil deceptively
deviating from the ******,
the spectrum of fools.
'tis destiny's rule
to seek answers
to questions
for lessons
and tools.

A powerful kick from the A/C is what finally let Balloon's face out of the corner and abruptly spun it around. that kick is what finally caused Balloon to be allowed to see a window for the first time.
resting face against the surface of a brighter world in a newer place, Balloon has no choice but to watch the whimsical movement of the wind throughout the tips of the untrimmed grass below the trees, shooting upward with the breeze, Balloon has seen the swift and seemingly untamed movement of Leaf. Uncontrollably criss-crossing in charismatic loops, Leaf spins in so many circles and so fast that the view that Leaf once had is now skewed. Leaf gets carried away. Up here, things cannot be looked at in the same way that they were before the wind tore holes in the skin and Leaf had no choice but to swing away, to and fro, and enjoy the fall with upward gaze.
Just below the haze of magical nothingness,
with nothing left to experience
except the baby blue-blanketed sky,
Eagle appears and flashes by and
Eagle will never leave the sky
because Eagle knows how to fly
because Eagle knows how to flap
because Eagle flies higher to look further down,
because Eagle flies higher than the rest,
and Eagle flies alone . . .

because Eagle will never leave the sky

alone.

so focus down below
to where the grass has grown
the prancing has begun and now
the ground begins to move and now
the Beasts are having fun.
the Beasts will never lose the beat,
will lose control.
the Beast will gain a soul
and in the midst of chaos
love has finally grown.

and Human’s heart
is now at peace

If you choose to stay
then I will love you forever.
And if you choose to leave
then I will love you forever.
And I hate to sound mean,
but there is no in between.
You must tell me, darling,
is the light red
or is it green?

you may not be the one,
but you're my one right now.
and if the future never comes,
that'll be the best present
I've ever had.

You don't know me yet but, one day,
you will. My name is your name.
I'm _ years old and the year is __.

There's your preface. Let's begin.

---------------------------------------------------------­-----

you are a ******* and you know it.
a literal *******. you smell.
you're sloppy. you're always laying down.
you're never doing anything . . .
except waiting for somebody else
to push you out and make you
see the light before you're
finally flushed away into eternal darkness . . .

you're like a baby, is what I'm saying . . .
the "*******" reference was
only meant to be metaphoric,
you're still cute. chill . . .
you just don't do anything!

but, one day, you will.
you just gotta grow first.
like, mentally and spiritually.
the physical will come, don't even sweat it, kid.
oh, oops, my mistake . . ."big" kid.
forgot you're like a whole toddler now.

you still don't do anything, though.
except yap away.
yap. yap. yap. yap. yap.
but, you still don't really say anything.
and it's not 'cause you don't know how,
I mean, geez, you're like a preteen now.

you just don't care. and you told me, specifically,
"I don't care." and I said, "fine".
'cause I'm not there.
I'm not in control of what you do.
like you're not in high school anymore, man.

you don't have to do anything
you don't want to do. you know about life.
you know how it works. you are able
to do the things that you want to do . . .
you're like an adult, for ****'s sake!

but nothing's changed has it?
everything's still the same.
you're still a *******.

so, as a *******,
you will remain . . .

I hope, one day, you change . . .

you may not be the one,
but you're my one right now.

and if the future never comes,
that'll be the best present
I've ever had.