an embrace without a lost paradise
your cabaret words like a trance
I walk through the corrosive noise
I find my way to your footsteps on narrow streets
you hardly look back at your traces when they erase your touch from the map of time
so painful the hands left alone
you are touched by a melancholy impossible for some mornings
I am touched by reverie, entropy and memory
next desire on display a stain or a broken destiny
the weight of our shadows unknown
a foreign tissue is carrying the profoundness of thoughts
bear with me this heart tarred with pain

a moon song be the night
when trees remember how deep their dreams run

He told his cousin it would comeback to her. You can't disrespect people and expect them to listen. She got comfortable telling others her opinion when no one asked. People appreciate honest the blindside would make people more angry.

Eventually all that would comeback to her. All the lies and deceit would come out secrets exposed. Talking down or bad about others doesn't make you a better person. One opinion doesn't matter but trying to manipulate others to follow your hateful methods is unacceptable.

Some people already have it hard they don't need you pointing out the obvious or trying to make them feel the way you're projecting your insanity on them. You dk their life or what they are thinking. how they are feeling to impose your intrusive thoughts.

You're a nobody
You're nothing
Am I somebody?
Every time that I write I feel the power
I am a storyteller
How I found my family and how they found me
As they get to know me
Those people I am coming to know through stories and photographs
shaped who we are
As I write the book, I asked questions
The answers only Heaven knows

C@rainbowchaser2023

the breath of history in unknown bodies
intoxicate my sight I might say
it chokes me with a mystified light
I have to learn how to breath my own life
it's easy to confuse the absent with the real
the incorporation of dread, hidden feelings
and unspoken truths a subtle tyranny
no body carried my body in a mind

I want to spend my life writing love stories I will
forget by midnight and rewrite with laughter

between generations a subtle struggle cause there isn't still
enough space inside for the life of one's boundaries
it's either you or me to suffer but everybody is OK
we smile at each other, we appreciate each other

unbearable life colonizes the body with unbearable silence, signs without symbols but symptoms, drives and confiscated stories
unreachable bodies woven together by force in the fabric of illusion
cast a dimming shadow like the melancholy of an echo heard
by no body

let me tell you stories about stories
let me touch you with the pure joy of touching,
the eclipse of emptiness or
spicy details on the trajectory of sight

some sorrows make for an obsession without identity

we can invent a sign language
for nobody else to understand
this unfinished text, the singularity of clarity,
the sweetness of fingers

no shame in shade
let me touch you with a heresy
haunted by silence