Calmer than I could be but more hyper than I should be
A still pond, ripples growing
My mind flowing and coalescing
Always going, confessing
Singing a truth into the world
A whirlwind of expression
Suggestions and impressions
My most honest confessions
Spending sessions crafting verses, masking the mundanity of humanity with rhymes and wit, because when times are **** we need verbal skits to help us forget
And when times are great I use words to celebrate, relate experience with eloquence and mount a defense against the sad times with these mad rhymes, counting my blessings as I undress the distress, caress these careless thoughts that plague me and harangue me, using language as a cage to contain and restrain the darkness because it’s far less work than acceptance. Language is the way out, reason supplants doubt and I can shout in the face of death, deface him with each breath, replace the fear with here, with now, with this moment and foment a rebellion against evolution, a thought revolution, and finally see that the solutions are the problems, every day you are solving them by being here, holding what is dear near to your heart and living as a part of this, as art instead of artifice.