An intensity of a thought, and the intimacy of feeling produce the sound,
The announcement, immediate and incomplete, but monumental -
The outpour of falling words, running from my mouth like water droplets from the clouds…
A leap towards faith and freedom, towards the excitement of uncertainty -
Experiencing a brief moment of weightless resilience,
Strong, proud and fearless…
Fiercely crashing into their destination without restraint,
Saturating the contents,
          Slowly falling, seeping down further –
                                                               ­             Layer…
                                             ­                                                       Upon layer…
Hopefully finding welcome,
                                  Hopefully finding reciprocation.


It starts with an intensity of a thought, and the intimacy of feeling to produce the sound...

what am I I don't know I think I'm a boy I grew up one time reading a book with a gun in my hand with a pellet gun in my hand I grew up a boy

i have like tress stood piercingly between slick sheets of darkness

                                       light

pressed with lips full of burning pollen(a sting)

whispered in ***** bold dreaming

unloose cruel love

and

burst

I'm slowly becoming a cynic
People, human beings frustrate me.
I've even begun to frustrate myself,
Regrets pile on top of one another,
and like inertia they can't seem to stop.
It would seem I am human.