isolation has its familiarity,
as happiness is a drug
yet not as addicting as
misery.

My eyes are pure sunlight,
Streaming through this window,

My body- merely dust,
Waltzing through our classroom,

My soul sleeps on this ruby floor,
Bathing in my midday glow,

Filling every imperfection,
every crack and crevice,

To blanket your eyes,
With my fiberglass fingers,
Until my ghost seems to shine.

“Where is it I must go?”,
I ask my mirror’s reflection
Is there truly something missing,
Or do I miss imperfection?
I’ve yet to wander far enough
To dull my soul’s reverberations

My body, a holy temple fueled by resounding purpose

GONGG…..GONGG…..GONGG…..

Do I truly know my calling,
Or is my longing just a comfort?
If I am grateful for my life,
Should I worry time is too short
To spend any of my days
Without some type of progress to report?

I worry I am drifting asleep. I need to wake up before it’s too late

GONGG…..GONGG…..

What if I gave it up?
I fear it might end really bad
Would the universe reject me
And crumble everything I had,
Make sure that I was forced
To fulfill some sort of soul contract?

If I knew which one was my opponent, I could be prepared to fight

GONGG…..

I wonder, will I ever make it?
Is there even an “it” to make?
If there is something I desire,
Then is it something I will create?
Do I focus on my blessings
Or on a treasure that might be fake?

I ask for a sign that I am doing the right thing

…..

when is is all there is where isn't was
and all the sky's inside a blue balloon
and everywhat is known to be because
too good is God to be believed too soon

then breathing breath doth verily become
(in spite of all the sayers saying nay)
a joy deflating all the threats of doom
since every doomsday dies before its day

to be or not to be,
that is the question un
doing democracy
burdened by(what has been

the magic)8 ball knows
the answer,so do i
the magic answer is
better not tell you now