******* i want to fight right now,
i have so much free energy,
the rents cheap, i've made ends meet
i got great sleep had great dreams
but i'm not fighting
i'm waiting
But god ****** i've been waiting to fight
fight for my life because my life is worth fighting for so i should always be fighting right?
shouldn't i be acknowledging, that if i don't fight
i'm shouting empty threats and just
well...stalling?
     maybe i'll fight for that first...
swing metaphorical fists at not so metaphorical time
or is time metaphorical too?
     i should fight for that next...
fight for time, and then the time that's being wasted
while fighting for more time in which to spend fighting for time
   and i have no ******* idea how to fight for that
maybe fighting is pointless and we all just look in mirrors
and take freeshots at ourselves, by curling our biceps
and trying to hit our reflection but just end up hitting ourselves
yet you are only your legacy, fighting yourself leaves short trails
only followed by who looks back in the mirror, and that person is finite
until they fight for something else

I exist behind my words
I swear I'm trying but the light burns the eyes
Of every coherent thought I devise
So they cower behind my molars
Little men with puffed up shoulders
Shaking from fear, I know its absurd
But bear with me, its rediculous
But hear me out
I swear they're little soldiers
of intelligence but cowardice
Who know not of their own prowess
who only know of tooth brushes
Yes I brush my teeth to rid myself of the shaking
The quaking of stupid little intellectuals
Begging to be let out,
Imagining hypothetical situations of triumph
Only in reality met with silence
Because the unintelligible break the dental barrier
Much more often than comprehensible
Logical witty and thoughtful even attempt tooth warfare
And all that happens is a stutter
Because my little intellectual insurrectionists
Cowering from the light
cannot see the others flying in the air
Not lying in wait
I hope one day I can say something wrong enough to scare them out.

sometimes when i blink my eyes
i imagine i'll be taken by surprise when they open
attached to a needle and woven through the earth
and in a moment i'd cross an ocean of a distance
to find myself balancing on one foot
soot dusted face
from moving through space and time so
spontaneously
balancing on the edge of a cliff
a balance beam
ready to dive in hold the scream down and breathe

deep breaths
sleeping
no not in bed
or in death
but sleeping while awake
dreaming while standing
closing my eyes and getting wisked away by reality
in only a way a dream has the right to move me so fluidly

If sitting in a place i've rested before
relying on this chair
and not my humanity to keep me off this floor
means that i've returned
that i've earned my right to remain
on this tropical shore, made of words
stricken out of texts and lore
i will choose another seat
i remain returned but my fire yearns
for fodder to render it complete

a single touch
and such returned
is ample tinder
for souls to burn
and yearn for yet another
tinge from the roaring fire

Slivers of unintended new experiences
Stuck painlessly into our feet
Moving along the same splintered wooden dock
We both have trodded before
Too safely to have carried any scar tissue
But now our earth touchers resemble
Porcupines that when touched
Refuse to release our quills
But offer a story or two to remember we've been here before instead
Of losing the memories we've gained.
And when we finally pick the wood out
it fashions into a fence gate that opens up to
New stories new experiences
New feelings new apprehensions
Just new
New looks on a new face wrapped in gift wrap
So I have to make it Christmas to open them up
without buying anything but just by giving the gift of presence as presents.
And anything more is another present under the tree
It's nice to know that sometimes when you plant trust
It grows into honesty
Honestly it's refreshing
It's a test of moral strength and how far you can carry the torch.
In the Olympic sport of courting