it is always nights like this, where everything is so quiet you can hear beneath the absolute threshold, when i begin to wonder if i am going mad. technically, if one were truly losing their mind, they wouldn’t take much notice to the clarification that their reality is nothing but intricate lies spun by their brain.

pushing onwards within the dark, i can feel it. a whisper of a dance in memory slices gracefully across my cheek. the hungry caress of a lost lover. it is a random number between three and four, counting the days of sleepless solitude; as my lover is playing tricks on me.

it is just before dawn. the house breathes and groans like a wretched soul trapped in a bottomless pit long before midnight. in the gray morning light, delicate wrists stained with ink serve as maps through a desolate labyrinth. “lasciate ogni speranza, voi ch’entrate.”

from the corner of my eye i see shadows of uncharted men that feed upon the protective covering, encasing us; separating our world from theirs. the barrier is a shield at best, yet doorway at worst.

try to detach your eyes from their persistent, wandering gaze; and you might just catch a glimpse of a shadow gliding out of sight.

don’t second guess yourself sweetheart, you know exactly what you saw.

shadowy figures slightly out of reach, but still quite visible – gliding silently amidst, whispering quietly to those surrounding. looking directly at the figures, a gauzy lace veil delicately masks and covers each shadow.

unseen claws shred the thin barrier before it is tattered and torn. one by one, little by little, each figure sharpens into perfect visual acuity, wholly in sigh(t). as you slowly inch back, eyes unblinking with disbelief, their voices are no longer whispers.

the gaping pits of opened mouths drown you in hollow prattles, screeching rasps; the cruel high pitched icy sneers of laughter.

petrified with terror and shock at the shadow’s newfound ability to speak, you acutely notice that the house is creaking and wheezing. you can hear footsteps on the opposite side of the house, and with your eyes averted, they are gone.

with this, you must take into consideration that i have spent far too long with eyes wide shut, drowning in utter fear fueled by morbid curiosity for this world: things seen and heard. each is a cancerous tumor mutilating my mind beyond repair.

to me, the shadow figures’ tattered veil appears to be a doorway, a portal to another universe. this sheer possibility spawns the magnitude of infinite and parallel universes.
much like the shifting hallways concealed in an e(in)ternal labyrinth.

amidst this never ending maze, man is forced to wander blindly from birth to death; where he then circles back around to his exact place of previous conception, only to be born anew. condemned to blindly roam and repeat his unbroken cycle for all eternity.

in this labyrinth we are all gods, we are all monsters. each creation story is universal, yet individual to each new life.

the sinner and the saint are both born into divinity.

Questionable verdicts
Lead only deeper into the forest
Judgment never saved the day
We flow with the circumstances
Only hoping that another
Would do their best to
Be a fair comrade
Silly though it is
When their hobby is
To put on a mask of
I’m here for you
Only to take if off as soon
As your guard is down
With their glib grin
Enjoying your naive
Denial of everything
They believe themselves to be
So do you go?
Do you adjust the expectation?
I chose second
And yet the mask goes up again
What for? To remind me
Of a moment’s weakness when
I allowed myself to entertain
A thought that you
Could be so much better than this?
Can’t stop being myself
And there’s still a sense of purpose
In being present with
All your masks and deceptions
But can you stand
Awareness of your reflection?
How terrifying is it
To sit staring into silence
That isn’t even the silence
But the unspokenness of
Your own worst fears
That no one but you stirred up
Like orange juice in the coffee
You spoil your own drink
Because thirst is what you know best
And the moral of the story
Is somewhere where the
Intention was lost

Swirling loose ends of
Anger and tenderness
Dangerous confusion
Of everything there is to feel
About any one thing
So complex
Intimidating vastness
Which way to go
Run or hold onto
Choice ever so difficult
Run and a piece of mind
Will always stay behind
Hope for the best
And you will lose yourself
In deception
Of wishful thinking
Perhaps I can hold on to
Reality and treat it
Based on the face it shows
But never let go

When the cymbals took over the orchestra
The violin cried in desperation
Her fragile voice unheard between the
Cacophonous clanking of metal against the noise
She knew her song well, didn’t have to learn it
She was born with s gift of transcending
Both ecstasy and trembling sorrow
She was born to grasp the soul and sink
Right into the softness of all the
Vulnerable memories and fragile hopes
Waiting to be heard, eager to connect
Many hearts with the sound of the same
Truth vibrating through the rhythmic
Backbone of the drums in unison with
Mister piano who conservatively
Waited for his turn to assemble the lace
Of meaning between them all
But the stubborn cymbals persisted
Thinking their role essential for sun to shine
The role of thundersome emphasis
And emphasis they loved
Believing it to be the salt of any intention
The driving force sure to leave impact
The certainty of it felt like the final word
And the force that span the little universe of the orchestra
Always forward no time for questioning
Or stepping out of line
Or  off with their heads and  proceed with routine
And only sometimes when light beam brought up
Old memories they reminisced about the slender
Deeply absent face of conductress
Who knew the worth of each
And guided them with dine provision
Of her soundless presence
That made them all so connected
In their partial spotlight
As they used their strengths
To channel that which only
Deaf will undermine
The pure harmony
Of coexistence

she was not broken like the rest of us
her brokenness was all her own
and she didn't know what was scarier-
                                                        ­ being different or being alone.

Inside my head are myriads of thoughts
Uncomfortably shoving each other
Against the wall they are running out of breath
Me too, breathless illness of a constant urge to
Strive always further always urgent
And so are you, familiar spirit so real and
Present from the very start
Came and justified all my strengnesses as
A blessing from another world
From separation into belonging in a blink of an eye
And my talent fits right in with your
Dark dilemma
And the life dealt it’s cards and this way
Life is safer and you are my sister
And I will give you my energy
Share with you the strength that flows through me
And is never given to me when not shared
As much as needed to fill the whole
Left in you by those who taught to
Confuse food with poison.
I am patient. You are my quest and purpose
I knew that before I could decide anything
For myself it doesn’t have to make sense
It is ultimate. So I will patiently wait
And embrace you with the vision from the core of my spirit
Your gift is potent and I feel
It could be much more and
Somewhere inside me was hidden the key
Not meant for me but
To open the cell in your heart
So the sun will shine
On many

Sometimes understanding another’s limitations
Doesn’t make *******
Less stinky
Even though I appreciate the bravery
I cannot take the lie looking me
Straight in the face
What I do has to do with truth
And there is no truth
In presence of a fake maneken