There's a ghost in the machine
A distant heartbeat
An echo
A recollection of tides pulled by the rhythm
Of the moon
A lunar cycle
Of leaves swirled
And now settled
By the whisper
Of the breeze
A message repeated
But not audibly heard
Remembered and understood.
You are in the right place
Where you need to be
All you need now
Is to breathe and be.

I put the eggs in the water,
I am alone.
I cook them for myself,
I am by myself.

Folks may want to feel a bit sorry for me.
I always wonder why.
There is stark difference in being alone
And being lonely.

I know many know this difference,
These folks know that alone is alone.
I don’t understand the need for
Constant companionship.

I don’t understand the
Always-Needing-to-Be-Married--
I don’t understand their sneers and jeers.
Freedom is a fine mistress.

I’ve been in the relationship,
I’ve felt the benefits of the companion.
But there’s something to be said for alone.
Solitude asks for nothing.

Forget the seasons
Their flavors hold no inherent meaning
Manufactured frostbite
Fleeting
Overpaid cosmeticians mask our ugly dealings
How cripplingly demeaning

Forget the seasons
Their flavors still hold no real meaning
Amputated tree limbs
Seating
Underpriced prostitution builds translucent ceilings
How cripplingly demeaning

Was it worth the price of heaven?
To view angels as the demons
To build a sulfur kingdom far away from sheepish bleating
Though joyful sound resounds around the fallen flock I've found, I cannot make a sound that permeates when I'm not bleeding.

Take your trivial differings draw, them up in stippling and call it meaningfully crippling.

I had a dream last night about Versace shirts

Ripped them off from China and traded them for ***** works

Contracted every illness out in Fitchburg

I'm telling you that I did it, officer.

Can't you see that they want it this way? They propagate it in their media and glorify it with their politics. You are part of a lost culture, indebted to your distant cousins -- yourself. They want it this way. They want you sedated. They want you kicking on an old mouldy couch. They want you tuned in, turned on and foremost dropped out. They want you to slam spikes in your corrotid. They want you shuffling from institution to institution complaining about the food as you pace a single hallway. They want to see the greatest minds of your generation destroyed by madness, starving hysterical naked. Look for it in their media. They know full well that to a generation of nothing, being a statistic counts for something. Look for it in their politics. They know full well how to demonize and revolutionize. Why can't you see that they want it this way?

Too much space,
I grab the air around me trying to draw it in
But I've cleaned you out like a ***** sin.

Never knew how warm and comfortable the ugly side of love is
Touching the untouchable, to kiss the impossible kiss

I guess I thought pushing you out would leave me feeling like saint
Theres not a colour in my soul I haven't used in our love's hidden paint
The richest and darkest darks hiding lightest brightest sparks

I'm desperate for your connection, that indefinable thing
The pleasure of pain, nestled under broken wings

The crackling electric static hunting our souls to beat life into our hearts
We live in a life not made for us. Instead crossed with many other beautiful paths.

The patterns we've woven in our times apart all needing threading and tending. No end, no new start. Just empty spaces waiting to be filled in our hearts.

And though I gasp like a fish out of water for your breath,
I know the trails of our patterns cross paths and that our threads play off eachother, shining brighter and bolder than any other kind

But now I pay my pennance waiting for the next day, when we find our way and I can breath life in again.