Jesus didn’t have no acid
But someone must have been tripping
When they talked about his walk across lake placid
I may not be able to rise from the dead
But I will use my head
And every type of fungus I am fed
To be a warrior for peace
Powered by the energy of psychedelic release
To fight violence with loving silence
To end hate by helping people meditate
To spread rationality, a logical morality
To people of every nationality
So we can peacefully share the same piece of reality

This will be the winter of my contentment
I will shed regret and resentment
I will finally get it
I will not forget it
I will shred this narrow point of view
This prism of individuality
It’s a prison in reality
The world is a superorganism in totality
I see intersectionality and finally find sanity
My mind is now a GoPro
I can view my life in slow-mo
This is not the Truman Show
This is real, I can feel it
As this film reel flies by
I steal a glimpse with these two eyes
Before I meet my demise I will run with these two thighs
I will squat 5 plate, I will lose some weight
I will choose my fate
Lighter than a feather because I have come untethered
I float high among the weather, never weathered
Renewed by cleansing rains
You may call them hurricanes
But that is a matter of perspective
Positivity is infective
So I will spread a vibrant virus
From the Pope to Miley Cyrus
I say nope to the winter blues
This is the winter that I choose
To sway to and fro with the flow
To gratefully frolic in the snow

(1). Loving you was like taking a rusted knife down the skin of my hope
And slowly flaying it approximately moving only two inches within every three minutes.

(2). If I could've I would have slapped you as hard as I possibly could the moment you wouldn't take your hands off of me only allowing it
Under the guise of "this is the way he shows he loves you."

(3). Trying to get you to let me love you to love me to love you
Was like trying to squeeze into a dress that was just one size too small

(3). The lines blurred halfway through the relationship and my tongue always felt too heavy when saying "I love you too"

(3). Trying to get your attention when it was something that I liked or it was something important to me
Was like going to the beach vacuuming up SAND and then putting it in my car and trying to get it out over the following few months. I never could just get it all at one time I'd find bits and pieces waiting for me.

(3). But there will forever be a small part of me that is just too naïve to not love you. Not the ******* that you turned into over those few years. No the person that I would always walk into gym with laughing the person I would continue to laugh with even after I got home. Who would notice my absence and when I wasn't in a room that I should've been in.

(4). You may have changed and that's granted just like the tides changing. But I think maybe if they could actually have a conscious they'd always remember where they came from.

(4). Just like how I remember where you came from still holding onto a little corner of hope. That maybe you'll wake up and realize that what you've become isn't good.

(4). But a crystal castle can shatter and I know you won't

(5). I knew that when I looked into your eyes and saw that candle flame wasn't there I should've left,

(6). Remember when I asked you how it would feel if I did this and you said not good. And then you turned around and did the same thing I didn't do. And then YOU had the nerve in hell to get mad at me. And because I'm easily intimidated you used that to your advantage. And soon enough you had me crying and crumpled apologizing to you. Because I remember that.

(7). When you said you loved me your lips were lined with sugar and ants were cascading off of your tongue. Every word you said was alive and stinging even when it was supposed to be accusingly soothing.

(8). When someone tells you that dating your birthday twin is "goals" it's not. And it will never be when their pH number starts to erode because of how acidic and toxic they've become. Don't listen it's a literal trap and I urge you to get out of that crumbling castle. Because you may think that stained glass is pretty when it catches the light but it'll never be pretty when it's coated in your blood.

(9). I don't hate you

(9). I don't hate you
I don't hate you
It's been a broken record repeating in my head because there are two sides that realize maybe I should maybe I even deserve to do so.

(10). I don't hate you and I don't love you anymore not like I used to I love a dead person and they'll always be close to me. But they won't keep me from moving on because I know that they'd want me to be happy. Now who you are is just someone who graces my keys. My nightmares and my pen. I told you once on a day that wasn't good for you. That if I had to write until my hand fell off all of the things I loved about you I would.
Every Christmas
Every thanksgiving
Every Easter
Every birthday that WE shared
  
(10). And even when I just wanted to see you smile. That was when I had a thirteen year old's unmarred un-abused bruised taken not  for advantage of heart. I loved you with a complete and innocent openness.
But now when I write about you there isn't a glimmer of warmth on a frost bitten day. And there's not a single cascaded bit of happiness.

(11). Thank you for reinforcing my appreciation of the little things that people do for me. And thank you for showing me how I should really be treated. Even though there were easier ways to do so. But sometimes if you're especially hard headed you gotta get hurt a little to know you should let someone go. Or even give up on the person they've become.

The mountain looks down on me
Smiling sinner
Drop your sunshine around me
Im drowning
Theres anger in the earth now
Time to give birth now
My child has died
Silver lake swimming
Nothing means anything
Anymore
I threw her face against
The wall
I slept in the yard
With the dogs dancing on my chest
Empty nest
Leaving them all behind
Ribbons spill out of me
My arms are dangling
Useless from carrying
Everything
Look down at me mountain man
share with me gods plan
Tell her that I died
Im just a husk of a human hide
How can I explain my
Simple situation
If you’ve never felt a thing

The way I conceive of enlightenment in my mind is as follows:

Picture a landscape with many people staring into the sky. The sky is filled with light. Each person looks up at this sky of light. You see a light swirling in each person's head. The light beams up toward the sky. Some beacons of light go higher than others. The very highest merge seamlessly into the infinite sky, an ocean of light.

Whether that infinite light represents everything or nothing is a matter of perspective.

Does merging with that infinite light symbolize enlightenment or death? Fullness or emptiness?

What is the directionality of the light? Is the light shooting toward heaven, or is the light actually shining down from above into the minds of humans?

Or perhaps even this image is suffering from a false contrast. Perhaps everything is light. Or everything is darkness.

Poetry, art, and love are when you are soaring up into the light and trying to communicate your experience back to earth in a way that makes sense, but will always pale in comparison to the blinding barrage.

Enlightenment is climbing steadily higher up your beam of light until finally merging with the infinite light of heaven eternally.

Feed the pure,
As they come to your door.
You feel the need,
To sow the seeds,
To see golden corn sprout from bald heads.
They turn to you, with silent open hands,
Offering you nothing in return but the purity you have longed for forever,
You will wash their robes and days old socks.
Homemade meals in a lunch box,
Pasta to microwave for you still don’t trust them, not to live off junk under cosy rags.
On trains, back to the houses of wisdom.
That use your gold to uphold their roofs.
For Marx and ideals that exist just as dreams, they burn with sin when such tongues leave the gate.
You look on, because you think it’s too late.