The air gets thicker
as my room gets darker
I can barely see my
name
my identity fades
as I evolve and change
until I become unrecognizable
even to myself.

We think we are
what we always will
be
time in the midst
stands still,
the illusions we weave
can only deceive
until the truth
is told to set us free.

In this life
everything we believe
we know is a dream
the power of ego
deceives us into thinking
we have more to win
or lose.

We puff up like
parrots
reciting our lines
of
sorrows or joys
in hopes to find
one moment of truth
but it's only for this
brief time.

I kick the rock
I lay with you
to remind me
in
this warm embrace of
your sweet arms
I finally
remember
I'm really real.

Sitting in that tiny room
you call your
office
sweating in sweat
heater blaring
chills of regret.

Inflammatory response
tightened up
tripped out
grimace has become
your middle name.

To steal from Bob Dylan
"there must be some way
out of here"

No wonder
plunging head long
headaching
heart breaking
into red brick walls
second story shaky
jail cells flaking
one too many souls
borrowing one soul too many.

We don't really
get it our way.

Bursting out of all that gray
making your way.

The streets will be
calling your name
to be the light angel again
drifting into dark
consciousness to light
the way.

Descending
back into
that
twisted tiny room
you call your office
in a modular tomb
and the only window
is
sleep.