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syncopation Aug 2019
Caught in a dream are how my memories feel.

Simultaneously vivid. Simultaneously murky. Infinitely disconnected.
syncopation Jul 2019
It is in the deep of night that this truth lays bare
All that had distracted in the day now ensnared
In the thorny thickness of the weight of what’s real
The gravity of everything revealed.
syncopation Jul 2019
There are days I wish
My feet could firmly plant into the grounds of time
And furnish roots into its fertile soil of blessings eternally mine

And close my eyes and will away its current and its tide
That propels my physical body forward while my soul stays rooted inside

Closing the mind, turning it to stone
While basking in an abyss of yesteryears and days forgone

Until the day you open your eyes and see the blinding truth
There’s no winning time for it will always rob your youth

You may have fooled yourself briefly resisting time’s wordly charms  
But immortalizing moments past will only do you harm

For when you awake from your stupor filled slumber
You will awake to days outnumbered

But by then it’s too late
Are you ready to step out on to your plank of fate?
syncopation Oct 2018
You constructed paper walls
Of intricate structures infinitely tall

It’s probably the silliest thing of all
Don’t you know that paper will fall?
syncopation Oct 2018
Could we have seen it coming.
A slow trainwreck running
Its course veering at the margins
Treading away from its origin.

Had we missed all the signs.
Or did we intentionally not see
What was the inevitable, what was to be.
syncopation Oct 2018
That’s what it felt like when we lost you
To the complex maze that became your truth.
A self-enlightened mind
Impermeable to light, to touch, to time.
An inner sanctum of make-believe so outrageous, so utterly unbelievable
Made of illogical truths only you sought achievable.

What led you to this I can only hazard a guess
Was it divorce, insecurity, a lifetime feeling like you were less.
Why has it come out now when time has already been the test
Was it the lack of medication, a lack of rest.

My brother you are wounded.
Your mind an open sore.
Rest your weary soul.
Torture and pain no more.
syncopation Oct 2018
Keeping you as my secret
As though the world unknowing
Is infinitely empowering
Like the Mona Lisa smiling
Her gaze perpetrating
Knowing thoughts discerning
Never disclosing yet ever imparting
Secrets untelling
Keeping you guessing and searching
For an inevitable unveiling
Yearning unabating
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