Not to fight
Not to leave
Not to go
Not to watch

It's currently 4am,
the time when words like
night and morning
are mistaken...
for it is both, yet
neither.
tired moths fly
rythmatically
into the bug zapper.
souls escaping their bodies,
stale light
absorbing their souls.
their bodies fall
painting meaningless
obscenities in the smoke left behind.
corpses covered by dirt...
the grass weeps for thee.
bodies hallow
lifeless...
empty
I am empty...
void of social
dependence,
but full of understanding.
understanding
my pulse is still rapid.
if only I were tired
what an overlooked
luxury?

Every morning I rise
6 am, almost like my body
Was in tune with the sun
No words said, just blinks and slow Movements
As I log the smell of my breath
In and out of memory
Soggy blunts, cheerios,  and cigarette Smoke
Ironically these things seem
Fresh
To me
Adjusting to the beams
And shadows casted by the blinds
A blurred portrait of my face
Reflects off
The burnt out 5 dollar desk lamp
This is the first time
I'm reminded of you.

I tried so hard to be more
than a wave in your ocean,
more than a star
in your luminous night sky,
more than a
single cell in your bloodstream,
because it doesn't seem fair
how you're my entire destination
when I am just a roadblock
on your way home.

Do you mean it when you say you love me
Because you seem to put him above me

the elephant in the room
i am not fighting the system,
i am not fighting anyone
i am embodying the truth and that in itself is the easiest thing to do it requires no war.
i am choosing to not play the game with a rigged die,
this is no old energy, she is the most ancient energy.


Like a flow of water possible of tearing down houses or caressing the smallest flower. The door is open and she came knocking on my heart, shaking the cobwebs from these stagnant corners reminding me it was I who had to open the door, no matter how many knocks or rings of the bell.
all the signs, all the perfect timings all of it boils down to me as always. The Elephant in the room.