Almost died but this time I didn’t

the pain of an artistic with an academic life
being bound by wonton grasping
don’t even seem to  know who or what I’m asking
Got so lost again when a guide mentioned in passing

Theres a fork in the road up ahead
no choice is still a choice maybe end up dead
Always walk the darkest path until
i remembered the angel and made up my choice
pull myself up like I hoist
out the words when I’m verging on verbing in Voice.

Seen demons, I hear hell, Headache of pride make ya head swell
been sick as hell/ oh well
stuck at the bottom molding
unseen granting boons
in the moon-lit wishing well

But I ought to see my life as odyssey
like I oughtt to be the hero
more playful like the spirit
otter i otter be

Im stuck in feedback loop self
but the emerging, unfolding, ever so bold in its calling

states plainly that it is time to fall down shaking
cascading blood caking memory set
wrong or at least oblong in it’s making

moments
seem to make me lose my voice
so how can I preach

if I m not acting
how can I teach

If my arms ain’t out
mama how can I reach?

Wishing the earth calls me

yelling come back my child
Rest in my arms and forget

I am death living memory leech.

╭∩╮(Ο_Ο)╭∩╮