Sometimes I imagine,
I'm the man on the moon.
Brought to this existence,
Entirely to soon.

Without choice was I,
Cast into this role,
While being forced to watch,
All the beauty and wonder below.

To watch the youth,
Rumble and tumble,
Grow fair and strong,
See their joy and their trouble.

Unable to lend hand,
Or participate,
Simply from afar,
All this I must take.

To see a love flourish,
And the agony of loss,
I'd give all of my mass,
To be a part of their flock.

As the ultimate outsider,
No chance to be held...

As the ultimate outsider,
In the distance I dwell...

And there I saw the perfect bed.
Just the perfect size, height width everything I could have dreamt.
I imagined the perfect sleep in my perfect bed.
Never quite seeing home the same again.
It came equipped with sheets and blankets even a heated mattress.
This bed was better than anything I could have imagined.
I climbed her leg and slipped myself in her pocket.
I haven't slept this good in a long while

here comes that feeling
I thought I'd forgot -
the heavy weight sinking
into the hollow body of
constant dreaming, that distracts me
from the fear of confronting the
issues deep inside.  

neither can I move it or it be removed.
fixed is it to my lonely self that pulses
large or small. it lets me go fly
then let's me fall. it's consuming.
can I feel
something else please? I'm pleading.
the pain of living is not forgiving
and I'm fighting the urge to give up
on breathing as this weight is sinking.

should I keep on believing? I ask these questions
as I am not one that knows. I know not much in the years I have lived other than
love
keeps the world spinning.
but I've seem to have forgotten
that feeling too.
oh I beg of you to break me as destroying
is one way of my body tingling
and that's better than staying numb.

I wonder
how our great creator
built a vessel
strong enough
to contain my soul?

Each day my spirit fights
against my skin with violent
jolts as a young bird
seeking exit from a cage.

Unfettered psyche
free from me
bounces among clouds
rolls through deserts,
climbs volcanic ridges
migrates with birds in flight.

Curious instincts guide
my vital force inside and out
like honey bees
scour zinnias in full bloom.

Dare I release my spirit today?

What's left is what's underneath;
Living life between peaks of sanity.
Too lost to rediscover those thoughts;
In an instant, Humanity...

Open your arms
so wide
so as to gather all
that debris of yours
Then, weld them
with so much passion
that those cracks
melt together into
beautiful art