I search through the haze
I smell your scent
But not even a ghost
Of whom you used to be

A white dove turned black yesterday
and I wonder if peace can be a piece of me. If my  body gets broken down into segments and thrown in a body I'm pretty sure I'll come out the soil of my mothers land.
Less recarnation but more invention.
Ideas thought about for a long time only to be released by another mind.
See thats the problem we hold on the tightest to things that carry less weight. See Gravity  can be a real *****,
but I love the way it holds my mind in place.

Getting weathered,
Either into a mountain standing tall,
Or a valley in a crowd of mountains,
Am I the river defining roles,
Or the sea accumulating everything the land throws?

Sometimes I wish
I could lose weight
Just by lying on my bed,

No exercise,
No walk.
Just me,
My  bed
And my sleep.