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I trace your freckles and birthmarks, each forming the constellations that I see shimmering behind my eyelids.

you are a spiritual being, made from the universe.

planet earth rests in your eyes, where the shining water and waves pull me out to sea.
November 11th, 2013.

for the boy with the tidal eyes.
I lose myself in your cosmic current every time.
I love you.
it's a constant stream of consciousness, the ultimate truth about how art and inspiration are just your perception and interpretation of life and the reality around you. listen to a song, and pause as the narration flows through your mind like sand through your hands – slipping through the hourglass and never staying quite on key. when your mind is always two steps ahead of the ink.

bury me with a pen, because god knows i’ll forever live in this altered state, and i’m destined to die here.

it’s about how everything makes you feel – how you’re more than human because you understand the true meaning behind the infinite universe and everything encompassing it. a super(ior) perspective. forever a self born monster with the hungry desire to dissect all in sight; until it means anything.

with all synapses firing, you understand the theories and ideas of the great intellectuals; the divine knowledge of utmost reality – art, beauty, life, humanity, and enlightenment. then you reach the darker side of the path; the bruised affair kept hidden from sight – the truth and knowledge and understanding of the mind of the serial killer, the sociopath, the ******; and the overwhelming desire to act upon it all. an unbearable struggle and battle within yourself to shut out the violence, to mask the hate and brutality – tucked in a corner for later analysis.

the truth is, this is enlightenment. ultimate inspiration and insight to reality. this state of being reaches your infinite heights, and these ideas are your pure gold philosophy. shine on, you crazy diamond.
november 10th, 2010.

this was me at my sickest, most addicted state. this is an echo of the worst schizophrenic episode I ever had.

I was only sixteen years old.

this was not truth. this was NOT enlightenment. this was the worst secret and delusion to ever haunt my soul.
A lone observer I am
But in my mind
In my head
There are more colors than can ever be counted
And I paint pictures of you
I want to crawl out of my skin and transcend. I want to feel all the things I have forgotten that don't have names. I want to slip away. I want to laugh freely. I want to feel the way I used to.Β 

this bed is stripped down to the mattress and it shows all the faults and failures. it knows my name, bears my secrets, and held me up for four years. this ceiling houses my soul. these walls have both imprisoned me and set me free.

Laura gets emotional whenever we go to the towneast NA meetings. she says β€œthis is the room I got clean in.” 

this room is where I rose and fell; transformed and burnt the remains of my monstrosity. I have evolved and endured within the confines of these walls. the scent of psychosis and freedom still lingers in the wallpaper of the bathroom after a long hot shower.

I have changed my entire existence within this room. I have lost my mind and soul in here. I have been empty and numb, trapped on this mattress. I was determined to make it the last thing I ever saw, once.

I have been to heaven and to hell on this bed. now I question if either exist. everything I have ever known, I have learned in here. everything I have ever questioned happened within this room.

I want to burn it to the ******* ground.
December 6th, 2013
a lament of psychosis, addiction, recovery, and resilience.
my fingertips trace
the outline of your jaw.
they instinctively know
the curvatures of your ears.

my hands have explored
and mapped out
every contour of your
body and heart.

I am the cartographer
of your soul.

I hum sentimental songs
as you sleep,
hoping they enter
your dreams.

that you can feel my presence.

a smile as you part your lips.
a blush when your eyelids
flutter while you dream
(hopefully of me.)

for what seems like the first
time in an eternity of
tempestuous winter;

I feel the unconditional love
and happiness that
accompanies losing
myself in you.

words flow around me as I
search for the correct syntax
to name my desires,
but they remain ineffable.

I want to have your
aura tattooed onto mine,
binding us for life.

we are the red string,
and I am the seamstress.
I tied us together during
my tour of heaven.

the angels gave me
the task of word prophecy
and of sealing our fate.

it was always you.
june 1st, 2014
I am still the cartographer of your soul.
this is your
awakening.
your rebirth.

knowledge of this
existential truth
elicits an

i n e f f a b l e
Β Β andΒ Β Β Β Β Β 
exhilarating

desire to
continue
scaling the
unfathomable
ascent towards

infiniteΒ Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β 
heights

anticipating the
thrill of each
inevitable
chronic

fΒ Β Β Β Β Β Β Β Β  Β 
aΒ Β Β  Β Β Β Β 
lΒ Β  Β Β 
lΒ 

to
the
abyss
october 5th, 2014
clipped musings juxtaposed with an experimental format.
the first time you played for me, I remember the innocence within your spirit.

you emitted the purest blue I had ever seen, a color that does not exist; unseen by human beings.

your hands cast diamonds, as swirls of opaque words and thoughts unfurled around you, painting the musical sonnet of your soul.
the shining sonnet of your soul. I love you.
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