My heart aches for you,
for your pain, suffering,
heart, black and blue.
It is you
who has mended and tended
my own heart afflicted with wounds.

Strong, still, I see you
amongst your lengthy strife.
Yet your stakes are far higher than
those within my life.
Simple nature of the boundless,
time waits for none, the less
attachment to this mass
taken out of context.

Vexed as I am,
in the sea of uncertain,
words churn in and out of display.

I portray your words, as a series of sounds
calmly collected, as they swirl to the ground.
Stamping out the fire,
which kept vicious shadows at bay,
successfully engulf me, mired
snugly tucked in my grave.

Living life on the wild side,
free, unbound, and open
Lookin' to my right and left,
reality has spoken.
Friends having children,
getting married, buying homes,
but how have I gotten to this place,
to be sitting all alone?

Beaches, movies, long car rides,
tokes, bongies, lifted highs,
all these past times, fast times, future sighs
no longer conceal the realness
of my desire to be blessed
with one who longs to be by my wild side

I shouldn't need another
another lover to cover my insecurities,
but, alas, I long to share my fruitful hopes and dreams
dreams of becoming a greater me,
of climbing tippy tops of trees,
of soaring, crafting, conjuring
what I have only seen
in my third eye,

chasing dreams.

I'm tired of being told how "strong" I am,
how "brave" I am,
how "inspiring" I am,
how "independent" I am,
how "supercalifragilisticexpialidocious" I am.

Stop telling me what I am.
I know you're trying to help, but sorry,
if you're telling me that your adjectives are clear interpretations of my personal reality,
you've got it wrong.

I am weak,
I am vulnerable,
I am impressionable,
I am sofuckingtiredofbeingtired.

Maybe I like being this way,
maybe it's why I haven't crawled on my belly,
out of this hole I've dug, deep under my heart.
Maybe I'll build a nest in this hole,
maybe I'll call it home for a while,
while my heart strings string together pieces and shards and broken,
empty jars that once held ambition and positive disposition and collective recognition of hope.

Or maybe I'll just poke
around the haystack,
the needles' got to show itself soon,
lest it ***** my finger and bleed me till I swoon,
at least then I'll have time to sleep,
time to rest,
time to keep,
time to lay,
time to weep,
time to play,
time to
sleep.

sweat, tears
loves, fears
tick, tock
fifth gear.

reverse this rehearsal
to the untimely universal
birth unto this earthly mortality.

relieve strain of the insane
pulsating, gyrating grey masses in what brain?
oh, this brain that says salvation comes to the sinners,
havenʻt seen one come out a winner
beginnerʻs luck stands no chance,
in the invisible, mystic dance.
perchance a lucky mister,
who sits silently and whispers,
tricky tricks that slowly lift you
sky high and lets you see through
lenses of the enchanted,
senses what youʻve taken for granted
candid shots in memories past due.
i see you.

quick flash, too fast to register for retinas
too clever, unknown is the source that caused
this conniving entity exposing who i was
merely seconds ago

paths intertwining,
retreat to escaping silent mind in
vast fields of sunshine and light
righteous are incantations
fiddling in these brain waves
amongst grey matter and foggy haze

these days

slung shot, eye to stranger
danger of cold shoulders show
we won't allow a warm night.
fight the biting urge to scream,
cream smirk to smithereens,
oh, the unseen, tiny green,
so obscene little fiend
gnawing away being,
leaves me with no cents
to pay for acceptance and a smile.

meanwhile,
the outside, it smiles.
but inside cement doors locked away,

is that one so unseen,
so tiny and green.
my obscene little fiend,

won't go away.

I am, who I am.
Proud and boldly standing.
I am, who I am.
Took off, safely landing.

You are, who you are.
Loudly persecuting.
You are, who you are.
Eradicate endless disputing.



WE ARE, WHO WE ARE.
One world, 'neath golden sun.
We are, who we are.
United, we, are one.
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