I write down my thoughts so they can breathe.
Don't mistake them for poetry.
I write to prove to myself that even on days I awake with my own blood on my hands.
I still am sane.
Or at least something similar to that.
Because if I was truly sane I would hate myself.
And I grew tired of that many months ago.

I have been devout and without
an avid follower of me
and nowhere found
the bed without a flower
after breaking ground
I grow
to glisten though
my distance closing
gentle breath show
my distance from the sun
there have been no answers
from doubt
i bleed and am blind still
the show we share
shadows forgotten
paths run walking or grown
the power is all
to quiet moments trust
to meet in far off oceans
where watching a sense
quite like fantasy
meets poetry and motion.