All of a sudden, I'm cold.
The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat, and my knees quiver under the cotton knitting of my jeans.

All of a sudden, I'm tired.
Everyday. All day.
The pages turn, each with less vigor than the last.

All of a sudden I'm sore.
My hands creaking; back aching.
Time stomps its stone feet on my shoulders, as it should, without regret.

All of a sudden, I'm purposeless.
The passion I admire slips through my fingers and trickles onto the floor like water from a dish towel.

All of a sudden, I'm angry.
Sounds of hate escape my soul through pursed lips.
I curse myself by laying seige to those closest to me.

All of a sudden, I'm stagnant.
Sinking in life slowly until bedrock.
My troubles rise through my toes like chains locking me in.

All of a sudden, I'm lost.
Alone, Pulling at synapses to recover what was once my image.

The air tickles my nose as it cools my throat.
All of a sudden, the man I once was is forgotten.

I try so hard to unfeel things..
Pushing against the walls of my past.
I invite the help of other hands to topple the monumental foundation that is "Kyle."
It never works..
"I'm responsible for my own happiness."
I'm so irresponsible sometimes..

To be, or not, to be...
That is plagiarism.
Although, the rested see..
It's the only "ism"
Will I do?
Or, will I do not?
Will I place soulfully, the life before me?
Or, will I defy my end with bitter, confusion.
I doubt them both.
Within my heart,
I chase a rope.
About a time,
When rhyme and cope.
Are one, the same,
Rewrite my hope.
Can one remain,
While others greave?
Burn the bridge,
And meld the seam.
Amassed awake,
Your idle dream,
Don't mind the pain,
Rewrite and leave.

I feel a presence,
As if it tickles the back of my ear.
Subtle and warming, reaching and playcating.
Amassed by the sound, I walk forward, stumbling and dumbfounded.
Tripping over pebbles like mountains. It wasn't who I thought I was, it was you..

Skewed, and Angled.
Perception of time seems so vulnerable, at least able to be captured.. mangled.
Away it flies, yet draws closer by the second; quilted with its own set of rules and manners.. entangled.. in itself.
Oxymoronic.
The ultimate healer, but kills all, besides itself, "In time." Dividing a fine line between happiness and misery..
Above rides the wind, and below, the waves.
Neither can go back, or skip ahead.