We are aflame with the infinite potential of the universe.
Thought, fluctuations of temporal acuity;
through entropy, and change
And, a gravitational bonding with our surroundings
We become whole, we become one,
But we live on as ourselves

The phenomenon of perception
Is a captive dimension
bent on gathering information
dilating, extrapolating, and innovating
We are manufacturing change
We are proliferating violently

In this surplus of information,
comes a need for capital in-satiated
So, though infinite the universe,
our resources have slowly faded

And perhaps, in an alternate time
We may find greater minds
From out of the sky
Or perhaps live on in peace
And share equally
So that we can make the best
Of our environment, and selves
And coexist
To find higher meaning

But in our current state,
At the cusp of civilization
There must be massive change
Or only death

For light-years come between us
And ignorance impedes us
From finding higher meaning
Before we have destroyed ourselves

The curvature never ends
Life is ongoing
Things change
People grow
We are here to learn

So maybe I don't know
Maybe there is no truth
The truth is,
I don't know where the future will take me

I don't know what I'll do tomorrow,
or who I might become by then,
or even if I will wake up at all
I don't need to
I know where I've been,
and what I've learned,
and who I've touched

I WILL NOT GIVE UP

There is more in store
I may never find out who I am,
or if there's someone I'm supposed to be

I WILL make mistakes,
but I will relish
in the lessons they offer

So I have no fear
I may not rush to my grave,
but I don't fear dying

I believe in God's plan
WE will make it through this
Keep on spiraling to oblivion!

I climbed the mountain
Took the plunge
And fell in fear of flying

The moment came
I gave my way
And then found myself rising

I soared so far
And saw the world
From visions in the sky

I ran amok
And with some luck
I kissed my fears goodbye

I hovered there
Up in the air
Til winds exhausted me

Then landed back
Upon the ground
And walked
But still was free

How meaningful, the meaningless
For it to still exist
What is the nature of becoming?
Where do we reminisce?
Where is the place to take the space
And fill it full of stuff?
Where is the change, to rearrange
and what's left in the rough?
How, be it said, should we instead
Take shape in different ways
And what aligns with all we find
To wake us through the day?

To lie beneath the willow tree
And wonder what wistful tombs beget
In troubling oneself with repercussion
Ever yet it torments

To lie beneath the willow tree
To see, the beauty captivates
And in myself, I challenge thee
One's own perception elevates

Of this and that
And what to be
And traits meant to conciliate
To wonder what one might become
If to stop hating thee

To lie beneath the willow tree
And watch the clouds drift endlessly
To see the world in jaded green
Where all things are forgotten

To ask oneself what they might be
If not to ask what is
To pursue thine own dreams, endlessly
Nary wondering what one might give

To lie beneath the willow tree
And watch the clouds go by
All changing form, but ever set
On reaching for the sky

There are so many wishes we make in life
But wishes are jaded opportunities, lost to time
If we are to make of ourselves, what we admire
At every turn, we must scan our surroundings
Look inside ourselves, and ask what makes us whole

Next comes the hard part
We must break our minds into fragments
Give up the wholeness, that sanctity of being secure
In order to follow our dreams in waking
We need to hold onto those pieces that shattered
In such a way that they can be repaired

Like puzzle pieces
To a picture that can never be fully seen
We zoom out as we move forward
And build ourselves into something incomplete
But ever growing

So wish for becoming
And cherish your imperfections
This is what dreams are made of
This is why we are free

We are not meant to understand life
We are only meant to love the beauty it brings
And chase the sun
Even though we know it always ends up sinking below the horizon

Don't forget to stop and admire what you don't understand
One day, when life passes you by, you may be those blades of grass
Those flowers that color a field grown wild
And although you may be stepped on, bent, and withered
Someone will find you, and they will see your beauty
In this life and the next
You are lovely

I don't like to be touched,
so I avoid letting people hug me.
I don't want them to realize how tense I am;
I don't want them to notice
that my muscles are hard as rock,
and full of grooves,
and constantly contorted out of shape.

I don't want them to know I am in pain,
and they are my medication.
I don't want to get addicted
to the temporary solution
brought about by a love that will not last.

I don't want to cling
to the embrace of a friend,
while telling myself
I will never find the love I truly seek.

And, for a while, that all worked out fine;
I became immune to the throbbing,
and the pain of anxious tension;

I was able to hide
behind the mask of indifference,
and in doing so I grew numb;
but, after more time had passed,

I grew colder;
the space between my two empty arms
grew more vast, and the heat dissipated, and
now I feel so heavy, and slow, and tired;

now I can no longer walk this path alone;
now I need a hand to hold;
now I need these arms
to be filled in yours, elusive lover.

Please find me... I am hurt...