I feel
        Free
                Elated
                          Happy

For the first time in
                                Days
                                         Months
                                                     Years

And I think I like it enough to stay that way

What has made me feel this way?

I do not know

Probably all of the pills

But it doesn't matter because

I'm happy

We are born not of flesh
carved from the visage of mother and father,
We are born of nebulae,
of a symphony in the snow and
the seeking of knowledge we never acquire.
We are birthed for
good.
We are grown in
evil.
Our lives nothing more
than the squealing of wheels
as they spin in our
sempiternal filth,
a footprint in the dust since God said
"Let there be fear and malice".
Faces of dead, liquored men,
shovels in our piracy
digging for hidden treasure in the graveyard.
So we crawl in the holes and
cover each other up.
Insulting the demons who pull us through,
blessing them
with good tidings.
We go at our passing, to face the Devil.
God as our jury,
your hamartia plays witness.
I am driven only by my fantasy of tomorrow.
What a way to live.
What a way to die.

I'm so caught up in who's prettier than who and who has more friends;
I'm convinced that life is a popularity contest, and it needs to end.

I need to stop caring about how many likes I get on an Instagram picture;
And really start caring about how I see myself and making sure that's pure.

I feel like I need to compete for attention with the people I love most;
We shouldn't need to fight for the spotlight and when we lose feel like ghosts.

We are in the shadow of everyone else's success when we should be recognized for our own strengths;
We all go to the wildest point to make others happy, while going to the longest lengths.

I need to realize that I have a family and true friends who love me for me;
And I don't need 100 likes on a picture to tell me how I should be.

Tonight
we'll skip on through the sky beyond the first and second star
and on to the very farthest star
where the forefathers of our fathers are.

Here they sit in contemplation watching burning suns expire and die
and I shall join these gentlemen to
discuss the statement of my affairs.

One ending ends and beginnings tend to start that way and one day is just as good  as any other to smother thoughts of potency
all this and more I see
shown to me by these folks of my own ancestry.

'Freedom' is not being free,
when you're free to chain yourself to ideas of self administered inadequacy
and more to be a slave which you again could  save yourself, but only when you take the blinkers from your eyes.

Beyond the stars where planets rise and fall and rise to call me
where the saplings of young dreams grow wild
you will find the inner child of whom you have searched for
and something more,
the very core of who you are
is there
beyond the farthest star.

An idled peace in the forest breathes
Every thought in itself
Whole.
It must be the life spirit, the ministry,
Pole to pole rejoicing.
The thin veil lifted, a school of
Sweeping wings. Let this strange
Hill of nature's suit cradle
Itself.
Let that child rest.

My cottage beads in July's torment.
I dreamed of a fair day
Is why I'm here.
Revolving perspective, will someone
Please hand me a credible vantage point.
The lens to get an even look.

This ancient, contemplating  
Frost moon.
Quiet thought.
Night beats on platters. Heaves
Roving breath.

Dwelling in Innocence
Till birth
Tender eyed, forgotten.
Sweet,
The day will come.

She, today, moves in fabulous array
Of shimmering sparks. Light pale drips
From her shoulders.
Bare wax, the space between myself
And the candle.
Blow away the pride and stand straight to her.
Step in stride. Give her
One to look at.

The sense that life esteems joyfully
Hosting frenzy indeed.
Vast scenes of shipwrecked landscapes.
Ruins whipped by choppy dust.

Heaven's heart treads alone,
Through the ocean's side.
The path of dew is told by the sky.

Lightning takes care of what is left.

The sunken lesson,
Knowing night is close. Shall
We bend through the lilacs weeping?
Laughing?

it wasn’t long ago
that i let my
sensitivity show.
saturday,
was filled with dismay.
i broke down
and crashed
straight into the ground.
i thought about angels
in their heaven,
so i gave myself
chances up to eleven.
eleven chances to
slip away to heaven.
but thats recovery for you.
get up eight times,
fall down nine.
on the ground,
i’m picking myself up.
and as i do,
i see what i’ve been through.
i see my fresh cuts
and see how beautiful and red
they look.
i love how much they bled.
and i’m scared
so very scared.
i’m scared,
and i’m alone,
even though
i see how much i’ve grown,
but i’m still frightened
by how much
my love has been heightened
by the razor in my hands
and how much
i can withstand
the sting of the blade.
and i remember
how no one is at my aid.
i want to recover.
i want to feel happy
with others.
but what if i slip and fall
back into the life
where i fell in love
with the knife.
i’m so scared
and no one is there for me
to say ‘i feel so despaired.’
goodnight to you.
goodnight to them.
goodnight to us.
goodnight to all.
tonight
another angel,
her wings have been found
and is now heaven bound.

Meeting in such a conspicuous manner,
that makes you ashamed to discuss it with others.
Not a figment, or a catfish,
but could this be real?
From shared interests and conversations,
it seems your "soulmate" truly does exist.
And is evidently closer than you thought.
So take this leap of faith,
and fall in love.
Or withhold,
and search for someone new?
This fear of falsehood seems to restrain us,
but so does the thought of meeting through a screen.
Hoping for the best,
but preparing to be "cat fished"
I suppose.