***** display their phantom religiosity.

Dirigibles drift in hapless abandon.

The horseman croaks for a pittance,
while the Christ-person blithely ignores his pathetic beseechment.

Yet.....

The wrath of the path,
press vital visions into subterranean oblivion.

having done nothing to deserve life
- Am astonished by creation

Only within darkness
Can our truth shine
Behold we are the candle

All I want was a shelter to feel comfortable with.
A warmth that you felt safe.
Trust for mutual understanding.
  And the pleasure you fully pledge to.  
  
    Seems like loving someone at this age makes us feel unsafe and unsecured, and mostly – at times, temporary.

carried on the dream I tasted in your voice
I was never afraid of heights

when I was falling
                                 falling
                                            falling
all I felt was cool air brushing my hair
as it rushed across my skin

it still tasted like you
or the idea of you
or who I wished you were
or who you pretended to be

it tasted like truth
but the truth is...
I trusted without enough doubt to realize
that touching the sky
meant I couldn't see the ground
that fairytales were meant for those with wings
because flying is a prerequisite
and I was just auditing the experience

soaring through promises I needed to believe
I knew who you were....
                       until you weren't

I believed who I was
but I never believed myself to be stupid
or naive
or...stupid

real is how we perceive it
but any way I slice you up
the pavement still wears my skin

multi-tonal adhesives cannot
heal the trust I broke by believing you

who am I now?
fear of heights and a traumatic aversion
to self-trust

plus a dash self-loathing

when I close my eyes
I still ride dreams that taste like truth
but the truth is...

flying is a prerequisite
and I was just auditing the experience

Have you stood
enveloped by
circles of
heavy fog

wondering if
a special skill
could clear this
suffocating smog  

and no attempt
to decipher
the map
shines...?

You find
a crossroad
replete with
multiple signs

if you dare step
towards the light
a dead-end presents
obscuring the road

treetops sway
join the ruse
each route
adds a load

Then fresh winds
sing dawn's song
like a lover's kiss
unlocking tracks

the cloak of the
hazy horizon
lifts and you
can relax

you see
you're there
and you're like
an anti-******

.
          Lone dew,
          at the tip
          of a blade.
          Orphaned,
          by a cool night’s
          moon.

               Disappeared,
               quickly with
               intentions unread.
               Devoured,
               by the sun
               much too soon.