In a world of few absolutes,
it's difficult to predict the future.

One must learn to be bold,
to drop everything and move.

This world is so huge,
yet so very small.

After all it is relative to your perspective.

But where does that leave me?

It is time for a change,
to be bold and move.

The seasons are changing.

Sometimes things are not black and white,
sometimes things are unexplained.

We must leave things undefined,
because in time the future will reveal itself.

*the seasons are changing

Feeding chaotic spirits carbonated laughter
While looking into their pockets to see what they're truely after
Desire's duet with chance's figure
Go figure, resonating voices off the walls that linger

I watch the tendrils of smoke wrap themselves around my fingers, loving them, kissing every small pore. I want to smell like smoke. I want it to be obvious I did something unhealthy and I want you to judge me for it. I want you to see - I'm proud of the wrongdoing.
I watch the streetlights flicker, see the emptiness across the roads as the people sprawl across their half-empty beds, burdened with the lull of dream scape. I hold to the wind as it chills my bones and let it take my thoughts higher than all this. I want to be down near the water, soaked through my skin; I want to be cold, frigid, and have my senses heightened. I want to feel everything in a heightened state of awareness.

You're a thumping aggressive *******
I fight you, I hate you
I love you, too 

You're a beast with no care 
You stomp on my life
You stomp on my soul
Like King Kong on a truck
Or Genghis Khan to a neck 
You've only been here to win

A huge body of heavy hard muscle
Barreling down at me
A two-ton man, you are
You truly are. You truly are.

Heated & selfish
You're sickened by my weaknesses
A King of kings indeed.

I can't tell if you even hate me back
So I'll say goodbye now, to the man who ruled
Over my personal Iron Age;
Your eyes are empty animalian jewels
And
I'll be fooled
No more.

For sixteen days a village lives
then it disappears from sight
It's filled with the worlds residents
For two days plus one fortnight
In four years, there's another one
Another village, 'neath the moon
The next one will be in Brazil
An Olympic Brigadoon
It closes down and goes to sleep
After all records are sought
For four years it's gone from our minds
A place that time forgot
Like Brigadoon, this village lives
In  the worlds collective hearts
Until a new one comes again
four years from end to start
Memories and records set
By those who came and went
They were their counties best and brightest
All well deserving, those who're sent
To a village never seen before
And only seen a small amount
The times it was on our tv sets
Is just too few to count
A place of such emotion
A place where legends stayed
A place of such great magic
They gave their best each time they played
But tonight, when the torch is turned off
And the celebrations end
And the residents pack up to leave
An empty village left to tend
In four years there's another one
With those inspired by these games
They'll live in a new village
And the world will learn their names
but, out of sight and out of mind
For four years comes real soon
Another athletes village
Another Olympic Brigadoon..

If I could explain how I feel, I would.
But I can’t.
My thoughts
are pounding the doors
and beating my tongue
but they stay exactly where they are
while I watch you drown in words
and twirl in verbs
and writhe in so much prose
I envy the mirror of your pen.

Instead I feel.

I feel and
watch lines
on shapes come alive
and jump out
in brilliant definition,
definition I can’t explain
or capture
but if I were to touch
would feel electric
and crawl underneath my flesh
and light up my blood
like a neon who had no constriction.
I’ll walk the city streets
and listen to the music
of 1,000 reactions
and watch the night turn into a masquerade
I’ll never attend.

I’ll see my adjectives
and pronouns
walking along side of me,
always trying to grab my hand
but never quite reaching.
They’ll spin around me and dangle off rooftops,
sit in windows,
curl around corners,
burn in lights,
follow the music
and live in the moment.
I’ll feel them.
I’ll feel every syllable
and every tone
and every sound in the tempo of my thoughts
and I’ll be alive alive and
humming like a beacon of manic power
no one can harness -
including myself.

She's a pretty little thing walking the streets alone.
Once, she had the world in the palm of her hand.
She let it all go.

Now she wears a smile that doesn't reach her eyes,
A heart filled up with deadened dreams.
She does whatever it takes to pay her bills and buy her pills.

Another night with another man.
Waking up alone feeling bruised, abused and broken,
Drowning in cheap wine, doing another line.
There is no love in her life, and as she holds her head in her hands,
The tears of emptiness, loneliness and sadness stream down her pretty face.

I hide behind a guileless face; shameful.
I can't stand to see what lies inside.
You dredge up everything I've kept buried away.
All my secrets, my fears, my shattered dreams.
I'm always caught between the anger and apathy.
What is it that you want from me?
You, with your faithless eyes and ***** lies.
Forever building me up just to watch me fall,
Giving me everything, only to ****** it away.
At the end of the day, you're no savior.

But I refuse to break.