& my whole life shifted from that day on.

Pieces of me
thrown away
like trash
Never consulted
Never asked
The direct result
of another’s conviction
or more commonly seen
consequences
from blind ambition

Paranoid
The fix is in
But no invitation
for me,
former me
or forever me
and all of my imitations
beset by my
limitations

Forwardly I lean
step in between
lines upon lines
hidden;
can’t be seen
Falling ill
Now trapped
by its machine
And from my vein;
My blood I spill

A still surface
with sticky sheen
amber tones
from which
I glean
a reason
Thrilled
What it might mean
A hunger
that
can not be filled

Nothing but lies
giving me chills
A shell
with values
not instilled
Instead
it’s dread
Their words
I’m fed
"Nutrients"
to fill my head

My outer skin
Its layer
thin
Not to attacks
No single act
or prayer
could patch
and fill it in
A hole
that’s black
is my first sin

A game
in which
no way to win
and no ending
once it
begins
With opened eyes
commence to see
The dorsal fins
surrounding me

Head starts
to spin
What could have been?
It doesn't matter
in the end
because
there's nothing
here for me
A demon-like reality

Where what you seek
Placed at your feet
The icing; sweet
Choices; not three
Have cake or eat
One choice not two
But want to eat
and have it too

All efforts
to retrieve the treat;
An outcome that
ends in defeat
A princess swept
off of her feat
But this feature
princess;
a creature
Spirit of
a soulless seeker

Deceitful speaker
Flames;
he’ll eat ya
Offers pain
Can’t heal;
life drained
Then reaching out
to use
life-line
but with each ring
hope further wanes

An answered call
done just in time
The chills
running all down my spine
Stand tall
just like Douglas-fir pine
With racing thoughts
filling my mind
I will be saved
Free from it all
God must exist
No time to stall
In battle
warriors
may fall
but no man's ever left behind

Only to find
With said spent dime
A dynamite kind of answer
-
A type
that might
cause strife
Can't plan for
Needed answer
Plight
like cancer
New chance to live
Worldly romancer
On planet Earth
A tiny dancer

A romantic thought
to think
fight fought
Instead a sinking ship
just dropped
This life?
If could
an ‘OUT’
would opt
No more
can take
Just make
it stop

Shackled to the very depths,
precariously situated
on the very precipice
of the end

where I can lasso the edges
and bring them back together
whipping the world back
some disseminatory yo-yo
excreting silky rut
rocks that bumble up
from hell and turn to lush
green,
belts of world for sand and dust
to which we have been gleaned.

I could hear them calling deep inside
that colossal of Rhodinia
an ancient land that will never be heard
except for the left
over play dough
left in the sand
Hidden under ice
I will dig until my fingers burn

The animals all taste like chicken
we hide beneath the rocks
fallen angels
left to run for our lives
constantly
constantly
constantly
constantly
constantly

and­ then
Flash
We are together again
the chickens cluck
and I fetch them a water pail
to wash away the fire in their gut
time to eat
time to grow
time to move
time to know

And the Himilayas dance into the sky
and florida's mosquita nets are dry
and the ice
and the creatures
given to the earth
move ever onward
and then
us.


But what does it mean?
I am but dust
and elemental stuff
and atomic configurations
on a tectonic bluff
unknown to the geometry
except for what I see
opaque eyeball
in its cage rolling
Searching for something in the static of dreams
in between the here and then
the now and when
the constant end
that drags the rocks
like slaves
towards constant
never
end.

The water burns my toes cold
It wasn't worth the wait or the waste for this day
I feel like the love I gave you
I really gave to myself because I saw me in you
Now that we're both gone
Would it be so absurd to truly love ourselves?
Spying through wires in space
You look rough, almost like you never learned
If you saw me would you say I'm better?
If you looked would you take me for someone else?

If I met you again, I'd put the past behind
In the end, the most difficult truth is,
we were looking and lost, fundamentally flawed
nothing more

What if we could make a place ours?
Fire for heat, flat for wheel, safe.
Free from the warning orange.

The thing about privilege,
Is that it is not our fault,
Like our biological ***, our name, our lot in life,
It's handed to us the moment we're born,
Wired in DNA and red strings of fate,
Strings that form a safety net for one and a noose for the next.

It's our advantage,
Head starts while the rest have handicaps,
But this advantage against the disadvantaged,
It makes us lose our vantage point,
It's not our fault, it was handed to us on a gold platter,
And it's our job to make the changes,
That make the world fair.

Dealt the tattslotto number of existence,
Our road smoothed down,
The right race, the right gender,
Right religion, the right neighbourhood,
Things we didn't fight for and disregard,
Diss and say is too hard.

But the only race that should matter is the one of life,
And helping those who fell behind, forced behind,
And to help them cross the finish line,
I don't want to stand on the mountain top alone,
Join me up here, together with free flowing air,
And if you can't make it on your own,
It's our privilege to help you there.