A poem called confusion
one day I will write it
I will have accepted that life is confusion
there will always be more questions than answers
     some answers will dress in the guise of truth
     once undressed they will be exposed - not as lies, but un-truth
I will be at peace with the nonsensical, the random
I will be at peace with the confusion

everyone is doing it
I used to do it
is it the key?
is that what they were looking for?
it seems too shallow, to do something
     if you don't believe in it
     if you don't know
     if you only do it to please others
the passion
where has it gone?
was it ever here?
     I think it was was, at one time
     but did it come first, manifesting itself in the activity
     or did the activity awaken something within
          unshielding a hidden flame

is it selling yourself to pretend to love something you don't?

"Friendships" crumbling
not like a cookie crumbles
although it was that obvious from the beginning
relationships began in haste
     grasping
     searching
     latching on
     we are no longer alone! so ti must work forever (right?)
will end in haste
tasting what you thought you had
     no, it was not a cookie
     more of a clump of dirt, actually
     something you wanted to try, once
     wondering how it would taste
     then spitting it out, crunching the crumbly clump of dirt
it was so predictable
what is shielding your eyes?
keeping you from seeing the truth, the future
even now, you refuse to see
you keep forcing the pieces
     no matter how hard you try, the dirt will always crumble
          will always taste gritty, unpleasant, wrong
     the dirt will always crumble
just let it be
accept it
it will not work
you are only hastily pushing the dirt together
one more week
one more month
but the dirt will turn to dust
just like your "friendship"

A piercing pink
is it potable?
electric shouting screaming pink
racing through the system
filling all the veins, the arteries, the capillaries
a soft pink glowing
through the skin
pulsing with the heart
a network of pink
skittering across the skin
what do we put in our bodies?

a soreness behind the eyes
eyelashes are made of metal
heavy metals
clack clack
blink
the metals attract each other
top and bottom
my eyelids are not strong enough
just give in
to the weight

They might scare you
I wouldn't want that to happen
I'm not scared
But you will be
     changed forever
perception. squeezed, stretched
can you understand?
I don't believe you

a childhood dream                                                                   they say
more like an idea they stole, manipulated,                           I say
     imposed their ideas onto

there were no childhood dreams
only ideas, encourage by imagination,
free from conventions of society,
but learning
     slowly
     oh so slowly
     change
     forced upon,

But isn't this just life?
     how humans evolved?
     social creatures
     society must cooperate
     there must be customs
     we will teach the young
     make them copies
It is the only way
Asleep
Empty
Dry