Even houses have their own natural homes
The quite corners adjacent to trees
Where their plots were mean to be

Pointed, sharp and searching, ever in. Some people are needles and I the thread. Integrate me if you must, though I will not be sown of my own accord. I would much rather spin in perfectly spooled schools on my own. Thus, is the nature of the singular thread, alone. Sometimes seen. And sometimes integrated in both step and social seam.

But to the occasional social seamstress, sure.
Cut me in.

The human heart is trying
Though it is inevitably
Foulably
Undoubtedly
Corruptibly imperfect in nature
Lying

Though never the less trying

My focus is my blessing
Is my curse
My constant companion

Aware of this regressing
Eye
And forms of art perception

This is true
This is you

That what I recall is but focal point
Of when reality is you

You're very air
Is a voice my ears drink deeply of
Entranced by waters
And by the tales of a home yet known
If I sought out the trees
To sing you back into my own song
Would you hear me from this distance far
And come running
Knowing henceforth and forever
Where you belong

There is nothing there
In the place once where
My heartbeat did beat
And my kick-drum rolled
Like a stone turned southwards
To avoid the winters writhing cold

Breathed out like snow, the snow
Which falls first as a rain soaked hope
And freezes slowly along the way
No longer pretending to know
What the feeling of light falling
Is like being beneath

Yet in the stillness, it is always me
Who knows no different than this when
Will my skies return to the lightest gas
And my head stop fasting
On this memory of you
But a massing cloud just waiting to pass

And in the wishes of spring
Therefor hope once grows
And in the kind of snow which smiles evoke
Which will never come to settle on the wings of crows
But glows in the sun like a radiant pyre
And flows like the flame of a dancing wildfire

Ignited, I fly
And maybe then try
And shake the snow from my wings of this healing age
I find, and will hopefully allow my heart
To finally come home
Who am I but alone?

I welcome your storms
Embrace your rain
Having fallen long before
In a flood
And in being
There my own being
Found
So I welcome your storm
All around

Belief is underrated I find
And believing in is strong
Like the sunlight glistening off the wings of setting birds, believe
And so it will be
Shimmering and reflected in our most human kind of song
That the way to be happy, is to be
And not to harp on that which has been
Or those who didn't belong

Believe
Be free
Live long

Everywhere I go, unseen
The prevailing narrative being
"I could not speak to he"

Tall and menacing
Quiet and stern
So well and in his pace, to flee

Looking quietly past the height of me
And quickly away by chance
But you

In passing with a scrolling spree
I adore when you can read as this
I adore when you see me

Don't judge
Lest you be judged
Especially because of feelings felt
If anything you must
Judge due to the inability to feel
To empathize with the burden of others
To feel such crushing weight
Until you can see the shadow of beneath
Try painting pictures not of them
But of yourself

It’s not that time
In its infinite wisdom
Healed anything or all that was crashing between my ears
No
It’s more that I chose
To wash away the sands of scent and memory
And to let you go
Adios

And suddenly
It is

Like the twisting snow or shifting rain
Out of nowhere falling
And on you in a new way
As if you are waking for the first time in another bed of life
From a dream which your former self must've intended to stay

Awake and suddenly
You are

Though storms relief
Be in no sky near where you may be
Remeber and in seeing me
Breathe
Like the stars will always be enfused with fire
A breath like we will always ignite

Even when you look at me
Do you see me
Or do you see only
The years and years of your own idealism
Projected upon my being now.

It’s been too long
since in findings found.
I lost myself in words like leaves
In waving metaphor and euphoric breeze

It’s been too long now for even me
to say that I can still smell the trees,
and live like aspen beings tall and young.
It's been so very long now since our song's been sung.

Like an echo it
reverberates across water mists.

Like a chorus I
am no longer left ununified or in wanderings lost.

No the sky,
we were meant to sing songs such as these
You and I.

No ghosts ever ran
And I'm not afraid

Bring on the dark-wind furious beasts
And the sounds of unseen terrors to-night

For I and I will answer with ease
That the heartbeat of a thousand drums
And the focused ice of perfect clarified unity
Waits for you day beyond this dawn

Know this

I am the embodiment of this deity be
Which wills itself from the earth to leap into the sky and fly
And never falls unless it's willingly done so

And thus it goes
That the deepest storm isn't always shown above the waters
This I cannot say but know

That no ghosts ever ran but from me
It will be so

We are not fragile
You and I
Nor are we blunt and filled with either dramatic or traumatic cries
No talk of sea or stars or moon or sky
Can compare to the mirror and its vacant airs
To the coin and its other side alike
Of the same material made within different minds
No other two halves can compare
Or be undone as one
With so much as a stare it is know to be
No?
Our love is a spiral
Be it up or down
Ever perfectly in earth or air

My sleep is not like rivers
l   o   n   g
My winded song without vigor strums
And wavers desperately along
In search of a lengthy bend to break

Nestled
Within the crackle of a fire

Whispered
In the voices of the wind

Resting
Just beyond the nights first desire

Dawning
With the rivers running

THIS is THE PLACE where we begin

No time is biteless
Memories worthless to those
Too hungry to see