Sticks & stones may
Break my bones, but your words... Your
Words are nonexistent. Images
Flutter,
Nonessential to the plot of
The present, inconsistent ramblings of
Tomorrow. Your
Teeth are bared, stained
& brittle. Saliva
Spurts & hangs in the balance between
Reality &
Whatever this is, this stagnant disbelief, this
Coincidental segment
Of emotion.

endings are weird.
you cannot practice an
ending,
and you cannot
anticipate a beginning.

endings are bitter,
because you don't want
to look for that silver
lining everyone is trying
to point you towards.
you want to sit in your
**** and be mad and sad
at bitter endings
and nonessential
beginnings.

why can't good things just stay.

why are endings so
dismal and heartbreaking.

why is it so hard to let go.

why do we lament over conclusions,
more than we rejoice the birth
of new eras,
of fresh starts.

why is it that nothing gold can stay.

I am not disposable.
That's a fact, it's non-negotiable.
A fact, which right now you smirk at-
but I am not a servant, and
you're certainly not an aristocrat.

I am not expendable.
I wish proper etiquette was injectable,
because that's a vaccine you desperately need.
Caring and truly caring-
you need to learn the difference between those two things.

I am not nonessential.
You think you know me inside and out,
but you don't have the right credentials.
I try to understand your motives,
but your thoughts are cryptic and confidential.

I am not unnecessary.
You make yourself into two faces-
the object of all my affection, and my greatest adversary.
This situation is just a coal mine-
your treating me like I am these things is the canary.

These things are what I am not.
I should be paramount in your life.
Through your own actions you've proven these are all I am to you,
You've unsheathed a backstabbing knife.

I am here to stay.
Though you've nonchalantly tried to toss me away,
you will learn someday,
that I am not disposable.

part of the issue is that people spend so much time
          trying to quantify paradise;
                    trying to delineate
                              what exactly it would look like,
                                        and what the air would taste like.

that’s not necessarily plausible.

the imaginations of men
          are acquiescent to their
                    experiences.

                              as a species,
                    we form opinions based on
          societal designs that stress a need
for instant judgement.

we’re contained in
          an age of information and instance;
                    an age that has rendered
                    deliberation
                    and reflection archaisms --
tasks delegated to philosophers
          and poets
                    and writers for literary magazines,
                              and other ‘nonessential’ social functions.

“nonessential” because of a permanent,
          entirely pervasive air
                    of cynicality
                    and ignorance
          that has descended upon us
as a species.

I digress;
people decide
          what they delight in, and
          what they detest;
                    what they revere, or
what they repudiate,
                              based on quick decisions
                                        and first impressions.

                                        this is paradise

                                                            and there is nothing else to see

                                                                                don’t
                                                                                you
                                                                                think
                                                                                you’ve
                                                                                          seen it all?

I am not ready to allow my broken body to yield to you
The centuries have weathered and ruined me
My mind stays, it insinuates movement, restless and hopeful
I am a vessel that bleeds out dreams and simplicity
I long for escape, I long to free myself from insignificance
My muscles ache under my skin from being mangled
All of my bones lie broken
So I am left here, to reflect on how nonessential I am
And I can only gaze at the same sight I've seen
I have been coerced to watch the earth, who does not appreciate me
For I am nothing but the moon.

Life and time...

In life, leave
In time, use
In life, live
In time, ideal

Why do we exist but not sist to exist?

Water is useless to time,
Fire is unnecessary to time
Water is essential, to life
Fire is nonessential, to life

What happens if planet's rotate backwards?

Will we'll ungrow and get young again,
Will the medulla metamorphosis diminish,
If time could move much more fasters
We would had towards future
Travelling through speed of light towards future
If time could move more fasters but backwards,
We would stop reminiscing and live in a nostalgic life.

It takes time to make greatness,
Greatness is also timed by time it self.

Let me take a dip
Among all your fevered kinks.
Leave me saturated and tense.
Swallow whole;
your hysteria and guilt.
Walk the night without a change of view.
Sleep noble decadent,
Providing you leave before
daybreak sets the scene.
A quiet night
Of internal sighs;
Ringing in your ear.
No need for an act of pretence;
Make sure to quit while you’re ahead.
Don’t fool a heart with flattery.
Nonessential encouragement
Only further stretched the blame.
Just let me domesticate the beast,
And for an instant live inside its pain.