im a lot like kurt cobain
when i am done writing something that seemed beautiful as i formed it
i begin to really depsise it
i am a lot like kurt cobain
overly humble, a bit too sensual
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i speak loudly but i talk slowly
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i am mild, and peaceful
i am a lot like kurt cobain
i dont have a gun

its almost that time
again
packing up my bags and changing the pace that life has
naturally chosen just
for me
i do not move with the wind
instead i create it
and hope that another soul
will someday
feel it

my heart is tired of travel
departure brings sorrow

i am tired of the goodbyes
and too many hello's

used to believe
you could never see enough faces

but you begin to see faces
in the people you meet

all faces i swore
i miss or never wanted to see again

acknowledged
the violets in the window box are pungent
sitting on this old wooden floor
ankle over ankle
eyes closed
grounded
connected
intertwined with consciousness
i press my tongue to the back of my mouth
create a vibration
nung nung nung
the amethyst vacillation
it pulses from the root of my skullcap
i am united
with everything around me

i cant seem to shake this feeling
that the walls breathe
and at night i pray the paranoia gone
but the hallway does not seem
as empty as it appears

love is so surreal
and estranging
it remains a fragile affinity

with hearts of gold
that break like glass
we meander through our
epiphanies

realizations of true
admiration for another
human being

you are the intruder
and i am the door
you have grabbed me
grabbed my handle and clutched it
i can not escape you
i have failed my job as the barrier
because you own my key
you are not afraid to pull me open
and walk right in
explore my insides
the floors creak, walk slowly
the faucets are leaking
i cant keep you out
i dont want to
you have found beauty in my imperfections

there is only melting
melting from one day to the next
melting into each moment, to the point where
i don’t realize i’m doing something until i’m almost done with it and asking myself
“how did i even get here, to the kitchen sink to wash these dishes i was going to wash five hours ago?”
and then i remember
i actually got out of bed and walked downstairs
i am losing my mind
it’s a sickness like a tumor on the side of my soul

i will walk the great
wall of china some day and
i want to bring you

you have always been
existent beyond barriers
there is nothing you can not do
the father and the paradigm of sweet sugar love
i dance in the fields of your child
this world, earth
of green and blue and orange and yellow sun
i dance
in daisies of purity and lilacs of sweet smell
no possibility is there that i could deny your entirety
your mysticism

lonely nights i sit and stare at the blackness
i pine for the nostalgia to bring me pleasure
in exchange for pain
smoke curls down my throat
and then creeps up into my brain where it clings
its soft and its safe
a realm that i can make my own
finally
time is mine and so are my feelings
for once

you are like the universe
with ownership of all my
constellations
with my planets hanging from the thread
on your fingers
and my moons on the grand pedestal
like a gypsy's crystal ball
and whatever else is out there
of which i am unaware
you are like the universe

is it hard to live another year
whilst all the other years behind you remain in a silent place and hold
peaceful pain
a place you yearn to be
the past is not just figurative and
i have forgotten this
time
and time again
that the clothes i wore yesterday must be washed
soon they will decompose
and only i find hypocrisy when i think of this
because not only is the past real
we are living in it still
take off these clothes from yesterday while you are in it
wash them
throw them in the basin and scrub them and wear them again
they are not going anywhere
lest you reject them for the blood and tears they boast
you will be left naked, and without warmth

Stop fighting the ebb and flow
With all your worthless plans
The Universe, God, Allah, whoever
You want to call him
He has more in store for you than that
Your plans are a grain of salt
Even though in your backpack of burdens they are weighing the most
They can be swept away in an instant
But their weight is hard to deny
So if you take anything from this
Forget doing what feels the safest
Do what feels right
That's your intuition
Feeding you the divine wisdom that you need
To witness your fulfillment

im not quite sure how the universe works
i get my bits and pieces
from books, and other theories
but i can never grasp how vast
is that void
and i as a human
will fill that void
with flowers
daisies, roses, chrysanthemums
all types of flowers

you are the intruder
and i am the door
you have grabbed me
grabbed my handle and clutched it
i can not escape you
i have failed my job as the barrier
because you own my key
you are not afraid to pull me open
and walk right in
explore my insides
the floors creak, walk slowly
the faucets are leaking
i cant keep you out
i dont want to
you have found beauty in my imperfections

somewhere in lofi dreams girls sit in a meadow below a saturated sunset that melts everything in sight
but not them and they feel the warmth encapsulate them
as though they've slipped into a jar of honey
and they can still breathe

but if you ask me where that place is, i don't know
the smallest drops of water, they suffocate my best identity
the one that thrives in honey day dreams
and floats on evaporation's of polyamorous love

i'm sure that solid, honey drenched girl has
slept upon those clouds she pulls the cover over her face
and falls into love with two and the two lovers love her the same
her rasta smile and rainbow hair ooze and drip from her embodiment as she says "love is love, the more the better"
and she reeks of drugs and
spray tan and suddenly she
doesn't look so beautiful anymore

my heart is tired of travel
departure brings sorrow

i am tired of the goodbyes
and too many hello's

used to believe
you could never see enough faces

but you begin to see faces
in the people you meet

all faces i swore
i miss or never wanted to see again

blue, green, and dripping wet
fertile and thriving with life
taking more than what some say she can handle
the Earth is a woman

The mind has no bounds
Before addiction
Which suffocates
And drowns
And traps
The mind

Addiction pulverises and
Processes good things so
Numbly
The bounds
Devour the ability
To reach the heart
The heart
Becomes

Alone
Because a slave must first be
Tamed

busy days i try
to fit in
realistic thoughts

but every goal
is outlandish
and out of reach

i cant reach out my hand
far enough
to reach the fruit hanging from branches

not unless i
first have
a ladder

and assuredly
my confirmation, a wise
man once said

take things a day at a
time dream
small you begin with nothing

a pair of eyes
its a simple beauty
but most things are if you have
the right eyes

do you know how the crickets coordinate their song
they dont
they pursue their purpose
and they become a chorus together