Everything brings back
Thoughts of the Sea
The Tumultuous Ocean
That whispered to me.

Reality is nothing
After all that has passed
Everything’s tainted
Stained and unchaste.

Hours are seconds
Time stopped the day
He breathed out his last
And faded away.

I’ve stopped writing stories
With sticks in the sand
And brushed them away
With slow grieving hands

The water is silent
Where it strokes the shore
Reaching for someone
Not here anymore.

Less and less of me
is familiar, and
the more I think,
the less free I'll be,
the stranger I see
in the mirror isn't me
as much as my behavior
isn't me. Insane;
To Be Or Not To Be.

Who I am isn't characterized well
and the choice isn't plain.
Are we even given a choice?
If I am, I'll go insane.


If not, I already am.

why do we trap ourselves with walls of thought
that exist only in our heads, walls that restrict
what we can see and understand through our journeys
in life and love, good and evil, wonder and cynicism

What are we so afraid of in our existence that
barriers are created so strong built through belief
and ignorance, invented to keep so much from affecting
the way we think and act, as if the minute amount
we know is enough to live by without being
curious about this amazing universe we find ourselves
inhabiting, filling the area around us with out thoughts

How can we not be filled with an unquenchable thirst
to discover and understand all that is around us
surrounded in physical splendor and ethereal mystery
All things are there for our mind to intertwine with
to understand without deconstruction, to comprehend
without destruction to be a part of and with all
of life while being individually thinking, metaphysical exploration.

When will we allow our minds to expand beyond our
walls of mistrust and comfort to show our thoughts and
joys of living emotion to each other to let
the very essence of who we are to press against
each other in vulnerability and trust, to share without
expectation of return. Without empathy and understanding
our thoughts will remain only our own, locked
away and formless, unable to show the universe
the beauty of what we truly are.

Where will we be once we can share
with each other our thoughts mingling to be
able and ready to explore this fantastic existence
we will be human, at long last true to ourselves
and everyone else to realize the universe is a
thought in the mind of a child
and so are we.

Sometimes I feel a little lost,
inside my body, my mind,
like someone's stole the map,
and tore down the road signs,
like I'm living with a stranger,
and there's no thrilling sense of danger,
just sheer fear,
when i pull myself close,
and discover I'm nowhere near.

A space where she used to be
empty and incomplete in my mind
it feels wrong jarring my perception
both a large and subtle shift
in the world

Expectations shape our reality
telling us what is absent
what is new and interesting
my mind knows she will be there
though this is not true

the gap is like a deserted building
slowly the emptiness fills up
the weeds and vines of other thoughts
but still no matter the clutter
the space remains and shall never be filled

So there are holes in my mind
for every love i have found and lost
there is plenty more mind to be both
filled and emptied by life, a thought
that shows me both the unbelievable
highs and unfathomable depths

I have inhaled the air of countless cities
and left some of mine behind.

My distinct fingerprints are invisible
but they exist
in a place amidst many others
on tables and handles everywhere.

My voice had probably made someone turn
and wonder what type of a person I was.
Do I sound happy because I am
or is it a mere façade I have covered the truth with?
It will leave them pondering over the masks we wear.

Lipstick stains on coffee mugs
Kissing the worries goodbye
they flutter away into thin air
and become someone else's instead.

Eyes darting to the clouds above,
that water was once down here in the sea
but now it is above hovering over me.

Like snakes shed their skin,
and dead matter turns to trees
we leave a part of ourselves
on dusty shelves
for others to recover and use

the cycle goes on.