Our worlds were mixed
like a glove with
the perfect fit
until I fell away
into demons that weren’t
there only to satiate
and now that I have
broken free of their chains
I can accept the mendacious
nature of my past apologies;
now I can encapsulate
how dreamers sometimes
forget to breathe

So I’ll keep watching the way
you float in detachment
not only for you, but also
for me: it’s no longer child’s play,
there’s no more blinking
in regard to capturing
the ascension we need,
in regard to securing
your heart

Like water in my veins
answers are converging with
my bones-
I want to re-assess that fitment,
to be your missing part,
and hold onto our sacredness
until it is in togetherness
where we embrace
the ever pulling unknown

The pedestal has crushed
from underneath everyone’s feet,
I am now vacant of all elaborate hope
that allowed the pendulum to swing
a presence swept 100 miles away
into a stream of memory

left with such unrest
I will gorge on rumination,
fill my cup with self-neglect;
loathing in the winter breeze
I can only hope to endure
every moment into its next

My head pleads,
"you moved away,
but forgot to move on”
and despite the emptiness it creates
my heart still wants to say,
"goodbye, and so long”

You burn me like the sun,
blind until morning comes
that skin is tinged with blisters:
it’s an overwhelming glare that forges
composition with my eyes
until I’m dancing with the synthesis
of you and winter,
once more trapping us within the night,
where I rely on the false comfort
of your light

If we are stuck in this petulance,
I will dispel your volatile plans
with my unending distrust
while my mind strives to digress
into half formed math problems,
calculating an answer as to how
I let you pass by the line I drew up
while vying for our sanity to be wasted
so cycles can once more begin anew
owing to spring and it’s eternal bloom

Was it designed this way from the start?
Were there ever words kept to heart?
Do I cling to the safety of warmth?
Or listen and surrender
to this mountain
where passerby boast
about its peak as a safe haven,
absent of fear

So I tread alone
with a struggle of heavy breaths,
as the thought of settling for less
leaves me in scorn, once again,
I’ll redirect this energy into resolve
to keep a steady pace
where lines will be drawn
with a permanent pen
and I’ll learn to fan the flame
of this burning sky
that I call letting you in

Everyone has a dream
brewing inside their head,
wishing to quash
the day-to-day
that we all have to dread:
it’s hard not to feel stuck
inside of a revolving door,
hard to escape
consumerism
that wants to make us
think we are poor

At the end of each sunset
comes another rising moon
to some it’s just
a time for sleep,
others it is an unbearable
silence, a deafening clarity
that we are truly all alone
because nobody will ever
see the way our insides tick
and form into afterthoughts,
never to begin

Still, the clock is spinning,
our minds keep spilling
thoughts we appreciate,
others we regret-
the endless war of
waging through mental states
to endure physical reality again
as we get up in the morning
with another attempt
at facing the blinding light,
the arduous day-to-day,
leaving our dream behind
that only wants to
breakthrough, and come alive
within this means to an end

“Will I ever find my voice?”
The echoes bounce off buildings
collecting dust in a silent aftermath,
white noise is circulated through
indifference to what is defined
as treasure on my path

Searching from inside a trail of starlight
barely visible from lack of focus;
my wealth is discerned from
these quiet moments

So I must part ways with conversation,
and leave the skeptics
who glare their eyes
as if walking catastrophe is my niche,
the title of a book they read
page by page, words swirling in a mirage
about the never ending assumptions
of being careful, careless, or lost

A scripture of doubt is chiseled within:
"is this a vessel with any real destination?
Or has your meaning been defined
by a faulty lens,
spectacles that showcase nothing more
than a means to an end?
Or maybe you just have to stop caring
about who you might offend”

Chasing attention in stride,
everyone seems concerned with
empty things half the time
flourishing in every room at the center,
we speak out and judge
from perceptions that don’t matter,
pushing bad behavior like shills;
are we all climbing the same endless hill?

It is circumstance laced with denial:
we will get tired of being so busy
of spinning in mindless desire
and artificial normalcy,
tired of looking outside ourselves for
what will induce today’s new ecstasy

It’s easy to forget dry land
when you’ve always been at sea,
maybe there is still common ground
in living out our wildest dreams
and holding onto authentic truth:
don’t lose touch with this search for
the fountain of youth

I used to identify with this idea of self
but it’s become an empty canvas,
a memory of romanticizing help
from being attached to words and panic
like they are the resolution to this
normalization spell

Coming to terms has kept me awake,
knowing that perceptions are lies
and with this continued heavy weight
from seeking external answers
my eyes will forever stay open,
devoid of the internal ocean

Burnt out from each day
maybe I was meant for the night
if I’m still finding ways to shake,
still saying good morning to the stars
wondering what this all means
and where the answers are

But here is good enough
to contemplate
while we humans
peddle our ignorance,
shy from possibilities that are endless,
afraid of simplicity
that is timeless:
ignoring nowhere
when it is somewhere,
though we mustn’t bask in fear,
no one ever arrives late-
if suffering occurs from attachment
then letting go must be
the way to stay sane

Right?