I take a walk into the parkour graveyard,
looking for Polish dealers and cellphone halos.
I heard Thoth resides in sobriety,
but words fail me
whenever you are near.

I let my tongue run in endless stutters,
disguising 'I love you' as some off-hand request.
I could take you to dinner,
I could show you a longing
without the need for ***.

This late-night food has lost its flavour.
This ******* never picked up.
All that is left is to dial these numbers,
and wait by the window
for any car but yours.

Let's take a walk to the railway bridge.
We'll smoke a joint by the open forest.
You'll push your breath into mine,
make me high,
and forget why I ever
felt so low.

Remember what we looked like before we saw?
Remember how we saw,
before we achieved?
Remember the perseptions.
Remember how we understood.
We were infinite.
We understood.
We were connected.
Unexplainable realms,
divided our thoughts
yet the vibes brought us back
to the place that we wanted to be.
In circles these waves of wind wind.
Around all our internal states.
The few external traits,
picked up from only a few trained ears and eyes.
Perception has changed.
We look at this
connection
differently than what we could mearly just see before.
Now it's something more.
Spiritually and physically
more compelling
than anything that one could only just simply visualize.
You'd have to experience.
You'd have to feel.
This connection.
Those sources of understanding,
that bring us back
into the very same thought
that we first began with.
The circular path.
We call life.
It all just leads
to the same questioning
there was
when we first began asking the questions.
So why would we keep asking them?
It seems pointless to keep wondering
about how much something matters.
When in reality
it's not how much it matters to you.
But how much it meant to them. ...and this is what shrooms have taught us....

Please stop wasting your prayers on her
quit wishing he was a better version of himself.
His father never taught him it
was okay if every kiss
didn’t taste like cherries.
Don’t blame her because her
mother never told her
every one’s hands weren’t as soft as hers.

I want you to remember
the ending of every fairytale
you heard before going to bed.
Not everyone’s parents
prepared them for the worst.
Instead generations of humans
have been taught to expect everything
to find its place in the end.

Not every boy you meet
will incite fireworks behind your eyes.
Some boys take everything you
have because they weren’t
taught any better.

Not every girl you meet
smells like chrysanthemums.
Some smell like every
pain they’ve accumulated in their life.
A mixture of ash
and tar
washed down with a shot of whiskey.

I’m sorry your father forgot
to tell you that
sometimes kisses feel
like splinters.
He kissed your mother
and forgot
that not everything tasted
as sweet.


I’m sorry your mother didn’t
let you feel more
than the softness of her hands.
It isn’t her fault,
her mother didn’t either.

I want you to remember
the ending to every fairytale you
heard before going to bed.
This world is not a magnet
it doesn’t glue itself back together.
Remember every kiss that tasted like cherries
and how full your heart felt
when holding your mom’s hand.
Remember these things,
it makes everything easier
in the end.

At this moment i feel the whole world caving around me,
Everything is closing in on my mind,
As i face memories of times passed
That are never to return.
It seemed easy then, but, looking back, we should have stayed those extra minutes,
Not been so quick to get home again.
Because now home is hard to face,
And it gets more tiring every day,
Trying to sit here and pretend that everything is alright,
That it's not a fight with time.
But the only ease is in the past,
Yet in those moments we felt no such thing.
I guess there's no winning anymore;
Time takes us all.