seeing is believing, i avoid mirrors just to avoid the ****** with bloodshot eyes - but even eyelids scrunched shut i still see myself


I can only hope that one day the ache will outhurt the fear of whatever’s after

Festering are the open wounds, the ones that we try to suture and groom. The ones for which we have no room. Though can’t seem to find a way to heal, the ones we don’t see yet surly feel.

Van Gogh pervades the air
Mounds of color
Broad free strokes
Freedom unleashed
I look at his work
I look at mine
Starry Night
Am I an extension?
A continuation
In the process
Toward a final goal?
Toward freedom?
Removing the shackles of history
Preventing in his lifetime
The glories remaining unsung
Canvasses unpainted
A chance encounter with fate
And yet I watch
As my hand swiftly crosses the canvass
And I wonder
Would I be here?
Would we all be here?
Are our lives enriched
By his struggle?
Do I face a blank, white canvass
With his eyes?
Do his shadows become mine?
Does the light reflect
As he saw in Arles,
Transcending time?
Enigma
Un-defined
Holding the ghost of reality
Penetrating timeless vacuums
Unable to escape
Unwanting to escape
Unanswered questions
Of metamorphosis
Of passion and devotion
Passed through the ionosphere
Permeating the atmosphere
Filling the crevasses of his life
Of our lives
Of my hand and eyes
Seeing his brush-strokes come alive
Transmutations founded at the precipice
Of a cliff’s edge
To linger in other hands
In my hands
Holding a brush
Dripping color
Blown by the winds of time
Inheritance
The future untold
Perseverance
Preoccupation
Permanence
A legacy of searching
Fulfilled in eternity
In a single drop
Of color

11/20/18

Sometimes i forget how to breathe. Sometimes i don’t, but i want to. Sometimes i feel angry. All the time i feel angry but most of the time there's something else there too. I don’t know why it’s there, what it is, or how to make it go away. I really wish i could just crawl in bed next to my dog. Listen to some 80’s classics, or maybe Isaac will play the guitar for me since I'm sad. Am i sad? I don’t really know. The only thing i know for sure is that something is wrong. I feel lonely but I'm independent. I feel angry but I'm crying. I feel broken, but I'm laughing. I’m like a broken record. I say these things over and over and over again. No one ever listens. At least not anymore. They listened at first then they realized i couldn’t be fixed. Then they threw me out and got the newer model. I don’t blame them. She’s so shiny and perfect. Who wouldn’t want to be around her all the time. I wouldn’t ever love me either. Never ever.

Will you be there in the darkness
Will you be there in the light
Will you be there to pick me up
When I fall down
Or will you not

Will you be there to help
Will you be there for me
Or will you not

Will you walk with me
Will you care for me
Or will you not

No matter what
Will you be there always
Or will you not

No matter what
Will you think about me
Or will you forget

No matter what
Will you love me
Or will you not

No matter what
Will you remember
Or will you not

Will you

Though it jiggles when we walk, alerting our imaginary enemies to our location.

Is it not valuable through the same indications, as a full dollar.

Yet broken and singular, when exchanged for goods does is it not accepted?

Why, when we break our dollars is everything regretted.

We can put it back together, but it should be just accepted. As is, broken as it exists.