When you're in such a mess,
You know its not just stress,
Self too tangled, can't decompress,
Too complicated to express.

~A.d | 13 Dec 2014

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am the breeze in the trees,
I am the moving clouds above,
I am the wind,
dancing as I pass

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I expand;
I decompress;
I warm;
I cool;

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am the breathe in you,
I am the swirling feeling in your stomach,
I am the oxygen,
encompassing every part of you.

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am in the heavens,
I am in the balloons,
I am in the rivers,
I am in the reeds,

I am air;
I am everywhere.

I am invisible,
but I am there.
I am nowhere,
but I am everywhere.

Anybody else got that one person or song
You could go without it all day long
You could be angrier than a dog with rabies
Or someone who got robbed daily

Why is it that when that person or song Hppens to be around or on that all of a days Aonizing moments seem to just slip on by
To another place or another time in rhyme

It's like all those bad vibes fall apart when Something like that touches the heart
This is an odd little occurrence but im sure it's a normal occurrence Helping me decompress and acquiesce too I guess that mood changer is all we need Sometimes


(hint, pay attention to the capital letters)

The world's out of order
My life is a mess
I need a weekend of chillin'
To help decompress
A few days of football
And drinks and good friends
Will fix up my mood
And get this blackness to end

My wife's with another
And my car died en route
To my place of employment
So, I got the boot
The dog found a new friend
he met up with a skunk
And what's left of my house
Has a wonderful funk

I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache
Even though it's still only Friday
I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn
It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day

My ex called this morning
Said our daughters in jail
And she has no money
to help pay the bail
That black cloud of dismal
Still over my head
I should have rolled over
And stayed home in bed

They say your problems
happen in threes
Multiply that by five
And it happened to me
So it's time to move on
Sit and chill for a while
Forget all the crap
And just sit, drink, and smile

I'm sitting here working on Sunday's headache
Even though it's still only Friday
I'm running a tab, cause the bank's overdrawn
It's a bourbon and beer and a rye day

The Doctors point and whisper
With crude and handmade tools.
Pinch and cut and decompress
like blood soaked sweating ghouls.
A slash, a snap, a sting
make a finger move.
The swollen eye, it twitches
and the mouth begins to drool.

Still no heartbeat, still no life
in the body, three days dead,
yet there is the softest sentence
uttered by the head;
Slipping slug-like out
from desperate lips in dread.
With unfocused twitching eyes
this is what it said:

"Let this one thing still be sacred;
The shroud between the dead and living.
Let the sleeping dogs now lie,
The Dead we're never meant to sing.
"Don't bring Death to Living lands
Don't take back the hourglass sand.
Leave the idols where they stand.
Leave the blood on bloodstained hands."

The doctor ***** his head:
"Is there movement in the brain?"
Another doctor shakes his own:
"None that can sustain"
Sowing shut his lips they say:
"Disturb us not again".
But a wordless sorrow is intact
in the soul that still remains.

Once again they dig in deeper
to find the glitch that kills.
With their knives and scissors
and noises crude and shrill.
The dead head slowly drops
with eyes wet, wide and still,
that meet the eye of a mocking bird
upon the window sill.

Now that
I’ve told
you all my secrets

Won’t you come
in the night
and ****** me
with the truth?

Push me down,
and tie me to the bed
that I made
Freudian-slipping
between layers of
in vino veritas
conversations

When I manifested
from under the mask
where I just
want to be accepted
as both the light
and my shadow

Won’t you come
pull my dark passenger
from the
dark
depths
of my sacral chakra?

My deepest desires
spiraling out,
you've
got me
wrapped around
your finger

I am the snake
coiled around
the core
of the sweetest
fruit
I just want to
savor

Then slither
back home

To the
Goddess of the Abode

To decompress
this tension

To Rise up and
slit my throat
at the vortex
of expression

Let's get away and put the mind at ease.
Let's relax and focus upon the sweet, salty ocean breeze.
Fold up the newspaper and tuck it away,
De-stress and decompress from all that is everyday.
So let's lean back a little more in this beach chair of ours,
Stretching out a little more to get the sand between our toes,
Tucked in the sand, sticking out and sun-brown like little pieces of drift wood.
The warmth of the sun combined with ocean spray in the wind
Hits perfectly upon our changing from light to dark brown skin.
We've never been one to have an umbrella drink in hand
But our Mexican beer with lime sits next to us sweating in the sand.
So as the day wears on we'll chit and chat, talking about this and that,
Watching the sun slide down we pull lower our beat up old straw hat
To better hide what is an already sun-burnt face
In this, what over the years has become our quiet place.
It's more than true that time goes quickly when having fun,
And we barely remember where and when we had begun.
Regardless, we wonder how it has possibly gone so fast and where it went,
But not a moment would we not consider time well spent.

there are days
where i stand in the
steaming heat of the
shower and feel my pores
purge days of giving,
giving, giving, until
i'm nothing but a bag
of skin and bones

i stand there and repeat
to myself as many times
as it takes, "allow yourself
to be the woman you are"

this is what i call cleansed

Sunday’s an auspicious day to suggest
that you, as a student, take a recess
in order to try and decompress
from our studying and stress

Now, of course, if you’re so possessed,
or some might even say obsessed,
you could study for a test,
we all want to do our best
but some work habits can oppress
and leave one all depressed

Just  take a needed rest
and if your needs are unaddressed
get caressed when you’re undressed
some would have that thought suppressed
or simply left it unexpressed
but under oath I would attest
and to a priest I have confessed
all my roommates acquiesced
that for relaxation it’s the best
and quickest way to get unstressed

there are a hundred things I could suggest
you type “A”s tend to make everything a contest
in this, there are no professors for you to impress
this isn’t a competitive, academic trap, trick or jest
I just know that, on Monday, this girl will be refreshed

A broken guitar tells me to shut it
on every rest note.
And I tell myself to
ditch old baggage
on the side of the road
to clean my tattered knapsack
of cobwebs and broken light bulbs.

So I divest,

Decompress in present
because right now, I'm at peace.
You speak over church bells
at the top of the hour
and I listen like
nothing else matters.
But I only hear the future
My future, your future, our future
                    the world's future.

It's not often,
but every once in a while
midnight slaps me with a sound
I can't explain.
Even if I explain myself
I ramble around the point
like an arrow with no tip.

The weird thing about time
is it's a lot like music,
or a galaxy,
but right in the palm
of soft hands and ambitious souls
It only makes sense with experience,
and getting lost in a pavilion
of nervous butterflies
only seen in lucid dreams.

The world is old. We're young.
We're lost. And so is everyone else.
Tell me about your favorite constellation,
your favorite letter of the alphabet,
what makes you tick,
and why.

One day, after learning about your spectrum,
and where it intersects with mine
we'll dance in space.
I'll come to my senses
and question nothing

Not even the silence between our lips.