You must be drunk or high
If you think that you're the guy
Who's going to change this world
With a poetry supply. So why even try?
A couple of sly rhymes and a clever word
scheme won't mean a thing when you die.

So, throw that to the side
and allow me to guide you. Back to the carousel,
Go ahead, take a ride. Those feelings will subside
Once I've got you back inside. You might as well have fun
'cause you can run, but you can't hide.

There's not a single space
Where I can't find your face
And when you try to elevate,
I'll put you right back in your place
So don't make the mistake
Of trying to take a leap of faith
Cause we'll be here again
But, by then, it's too late

You'll wind up a disgrace
And make your poor mom sob.
You'll lose that one shot at that cozy office job.
You'll still feel alone, and you'll still feel worthless
And all this disturbance because you think
you have a purpose? All this to be a servant
for people who don't want service?

You must be **** determined
to make a fool of yourself, but don't worry
It's all cool; that's why I'm here to help
So, just follow my directions and stay
the planned route 'cause you'll get chopped down
If you try to stand out, and your words don't matter
So just shut your **** mouth!

...Listen to my voice, and this will all pan out.
C'mon, have I ever let you down?
You know who I am. I am doubt.

Overwhelming emotions buried deep within
With just one tap, it gets shaken, resurfacing once more
Confidence I've built, yet to grow
Crumbles down
Like sandcastles drowned by the tide's flow.

Quis sum ego?
Vir som.
Ego confido in me,
Est bonum?

No longer will I apologize
For the ragged edges of my Soul.

For I am
Wind. Fire. Earth. Water. Ether.
Elements which within I won't control.

Ravenous and beating wild,
Always enough;
My strong, yet tender heart.

For all these things
To be known as both
Moon and Sun

- For being Me -

I'm sorry aren't words
I'll whisper anymore.

©KSS 12/2017

be strong as a supernova they say,
glow bright,
excel through the endless night,
yet, even stars, in their final hour,
fade into murk, losing their radiancy.
replaced by the suns power.

Confidence used to be
Like a shelf I couldn’t ever quite
Reach.

But turns out, I just needed to
Get up off of my
Knees.

(a piece from high school (I’ve been reorganizing))

I am simply at my worst these days.
Wild and unpredictable emotions rush on me - it's a place where the layer of control and composure are very thin.

This school year has been an endless working, always desperate, collection of days.

Each passing week seemed to unmask some flaw in me.. Like peeling a rotten onion.

Emotionally, spiritually, I’m drubbed—I droop like a hanged man.

It's not the work—I survive (piano) competitions and academic battles as if by some brand of magic..

No, it's more.
I have lost my goal. Like biblical engineers raising the tower of Babel on the plain of Sennaar, I am struck by a lack of focus. My direction, my original plans, seem shallow—I stand purposefully gelded.

It's worse because I'm somehow so much less who I want to be.

Like an asymptotic curve I constantly miss my ideal. I am hunted, internally, by my own inner voice, that ruthless, pittyless, seeker of perfection.. it lurks like the prowling wolf, stalk bent walk.. sifting my every thought, my every action for flaws.. until like the wing weary hunted pray I could almost welcome the killers warmth for sweet silence

In a mood somewhere between cowardly and courageous I finally approached my mom..

In a speech from the scaffold, I told her of my black, tight, treacherous spiral.. of my doubts about everything.

I expected the worst.. a disappointment, in less than cryptic, ciphered messages, a slow sharpening of her claws on me for endless shortcomings..

Instead, I got miracles..
as if rigid constellations had shifted.. an atmosphere of freedom earned.. and at least for that moment, the mom who used to sing me awake in the mornings as a girl.. and a delicious summer of rest.
.
.
A song for this:
Everyday Is A Winding Road by Sheryl Crow
Cruel To Be Kind by Letters to Cleo
.
Oh, and a Christmas playlist because—it’s December!:
https://daweb.us/xmas/Christmas_02.mp3