So the wolf that I feed is the wolf that then heeds me? Or does it "feed" me? Am I spoiling one greedy? Both wolves are inside me, how could I deny the darkness that sparks THIS? My wolf pups both need me. Darkness suppressed grows enraged and uncaring, and really how good is the other if it can't practice sharing? I want to be "good" but what motivates that desire? We're selfish by nature, it's survival, hardwired. Being "good" after all could still be subjective, jury's still out on inherent versus collective agreement, conventional reason, ****- what's the 'greater good' and from whose vantage point can you see it? Maybe being selfish isn't such a bad thing, if what I want is to love and the trust that it brings. Could it be that my wolves don't need to compete, that when there's no fear of famine there's always enough to eat? I know that Darkness explored widens the spectrum, learning not to fear yourself creates oasis in the bedlam. But one can get too comfortable within their indulgence, succumb to seduction of abundance and substance, lie to themselves about what their heart truly craves, pleasure's not evil, but distracting, it plays on denial, creates rigged to fail trials, enjoys shame and destruction trapped in a sure to fall spiral. The part of myself that doubts if I'm worthy, rationalizes pain and makes the road to joy blurry, tells me I deserve to take and take because I know I'm the ****, and then strangles me with disgust and says I'm really just a piece of it. So how do I know when what I want doesn't fit with my vision of health and my "forgive yourself" bit? When does being ******* myself become the problem and create ultimatums that mean certain death if gone back on? How do I understand moderation and hold space for human error, allow trust in exploration but not make choices in reaction to terror? Terror of failing as well as terror of success, but embracing imperfection is what gives my heart rest.

Where does it go
The descent is never slow
The best years of my life
Rope burning my hands like the string of a kite
As the wind whips it away
I can’t tell if it’s trying to play
Or if there’s something it’s trying to say
Will I miss this day when my hair turns grey

Now I’m choking on my spit
‘Cause I wouldn’t take the bit
And my skin it does not fit
Even tender caresses rub raw like grit
When the sun rises I’ll smoke my last cigarette
And I’ll bite where you kissed me to try and forget
That it all falls down

Now I’m drinking in the sound
Of the dust as it gently makes love to the ground,
It used to be our home
But now I’m free to roam
Back to the ocean who’s always alone
Where the tide will dissolve me back into seafoam
Right where I started a neat palindrome
There’ll be nothing to bury in no catacomb
I’ll be everywhere

I’m the answer to my own prayers
So I’ll fix on the mirror a far away stare
And say nobody promised that this would be fair
So I’ll kiss where you bit me to soothe my despair
Oh my honeybear

You ever love so much
That you're afraid of yourself?
Power coursing through your heart that compromises your mental health?
Well I've been down to the basement, to the depths of my mind and amidst the rubble of uncertainty I looked up to find an indestructible light that's always me, always now
But I can't know why it's burning, let alone how.
It's made of desire and her reflection, fear
Composed of all the love I feel for those who I hold dear
This light has no color, no face and no voice
It's all that I'm feeling and to stand in it is a choice
There's nowhere to run but it hurts to behold
I'm certain it's pain but without it I'm cold
So you see, I can't separate you all from my heart, it's a beautiful problem with no end and no start
The fact that how I know myself is through kissing the coal
That burns for the people but then implodes into a blackhole
“Bottomless pit’s” another word for unconditional
The only escape is through sedation that's medicinal
Hooked on states of mind that crave substances additional
I lie to my own face, swearing that it is nutritional
Because given the choice between numbness and pain, it's easier to hide, sacrificing all the gain
than facing the flame
But it was indifferent nothingness that made me go insane, so it's time for me to realize that there's no one but myself to blame
For the passion that consumes me that will never lie tame.
My love is a volcano, and you're the shifting of tectonic plates
It doesn't matter if you want it, I don't love you for your own sake
I can't separate you from my love of the rest
Including myself who I strive to love best
To fear my own capacity is death to my soul
So I welcome the pain, cause it carves out the bowl that holds all the joy that pours in from the source, so I'm thanking you now, forget about your high horse
Thank you for being, so I could feel myself shake
And learn how to trust myself not to break
Can't you see now the paradox of this game?
How I can thank you, but to my own heart lay claim?
**** the numbness, kiss the flame.

I try to keep a sense of humor
keep both sides in view
but I have always been a runner
escaping me and racing you

My truth burns in my throat
its urgency accumulated
but these are just assembled thoughts
and they were born disintegrated

can I even lie?
I find that when I try
My outsides reflect the secret reasons why and
I can't hide, I can't hide

because my ride blindly guides me back
there to where I reside inside
where I collide with my intention,
back at the beginning
I see through my own inventions

till the shame comes and leaves
me grinning, all this sinning
just fuels the thinning
of the woods between my mind and I
and that's the point
thats why I have to hurt this time

I strive for balance like a war in God's name
praising habitual risks and
taking pride in taking blame
and then I turn around
reverse the contents of my frame
till I can only see myself as guilty
in these ugly games
but it's the same
sunshine or rain
the whether is weathering me
with its change

I try to keep a sense of humor
grasp and seek and strain
to count the sands of time
touch each and every grain
but this life isn't something I can do
with my brain,
so take my symbols, they're insane
but they could wash you off like rain
or give you even sweeter pain
than flame

It's all the same

You know that feeling, when you’re dreaming
Like something matters, like
There’s a point
Cause you’re so close to the answer
And your thoughts sound like a voice
And last night I made it farther than I ever have before
Everything felt so familiar, I went straight for the right door

Sometimes I remember how to fly
There’s a muscle that you flex,
And then you feel it in your spine
Don’t forget to let go of your mind
Your thoughts they are deadweight tethers
Of an old finite design

And I don’t know what this house is
That never seems to end
But I think it might be me built by my soul to make amends

There’s a room full of blue bottles
And a thousand trampolines
There are rice paper sky tunnels
That curl when my house breathes
There are portholes behind paintings
Balloons that fly me up to space
And I can’t tell if I’m going deeper
Or trying to escape

And when I was a house
She was the space between the furniture
And when my dreams took me down south
Maybe she felt like I deserted her
And I know that that’s not fair
I had her songs sewn on my sleeves
But I don’t really care
Without her space it’s hard to breathe

A concept consists of a series of correlating ideas.
(The bees are on fire)
An idea is the interplay of memory and imagination.
(There is butter in my coffee)
Memory is what happens when a sense experience is recorded with language.

You can't go wrong with a song about a horse.

In an effort to feel:
Eat beets.
take drugs.
Let recordings of the vibrations of the vocal chords of strangers captured by equipment transport you.
Pete and repeat were on a boat. Pete fell off. Who is left? Repeat. Pete and repeat were on a boat. Pete fell off. who is left?

What if there were many men?

Do you contradict yourself? Very well then. You contradict yourself.
Oh and when you come back on Friday you all have to be gay.

Great white whales glide glistening gently through the sweet butter *** of my mother's voice.

Each tine of my spine like the spokes of a Fork is a notch on the belt of a God I can't know.

Every car holds a human going somewhere.

We are all alone together in the traffic on the highway.

You have your drugs but not your woman to take.

I refuse this poem.

All these strings that held me, bound me
To the ones I love and the ones around me I
Tied them
And maybe I can’t take full credit maybe
Somethings I didn’t choose I just let it
Happen, let the world happen to me, happen through me, but

I’ve been thinking
I don’t wanna be sad anymore
And I’ve been drinking
And It’s making me sore

Don’t wanna glorify this pain, I’m pretty over laying on the floor
No one else can make me better, there’s no escape and no trap door
Do we learn to pay attention or
Pay attention to learn?
I’m glad that I trusted everyone,
too bad I know now it must be learned


I used to disappoint you, used to
Lower your bar
If I’m already a **** up
Your surprise can’t break my heart
Maybe tomorrow could be different
If I believed that I could change
Maybe instead I’ll put it off
Maybe I like, like feeling estranged, like feeling estranged