My mind is a shimmering blade singing with starlight
Forged in a white cloud passing through the sky,
in the light of the moon
Constant and ever changing
Yet lays at rest in a small Shinto shrine deep in the woods
waiting to cut.
My heart is the shadow dancing around in silence during a deep contemplation
With butterflies and rare flowers blowing in the chill wind under the moonlit night
Near an ancient waterfall that whispers your name.
We are not alone in this
Everyone who has a hole in something they cared for has left
holy writs branded and disfiguring the face of tomorrow
Lost in a room full of shattered mirrors
Desperately swimming in a bladed sea for the picture
Only to see a reflection in the pool of blood you made for yourself,
out of yourself,
and your life
...and everyone else's.
Heaven became what you made it.

A white cloud...lost in the wind...
Forever at peace
Flowing waters under the most beautiful sunrise
in a place that lives deep inside
the love you just happen to hold
most dear.
The angels singing when you look at someone's face
A smiling nothingness
That has always been
And will never be.
both human
And divine

And when I put the pieces together the picture was
Unacceptable.
I saw the beloved and the tales said
Behind broken doors with forked tongue.
My logic could not bare justice.
And when the broken love stood high on its deus.
It's pedestal was wrought of expectations

The ministry our heart
The belonging our sight
The story we told
Was choking on light
When we sat in silence
The world became here
I saw you afar
the reality was near

The stars came down from the sky on a happy evening
They were children for a night and played with madness and abundance
They danced the somber evening out in the ghost grass as it coveted all dirts.
Forgetting for so many moments, wreathed in the now
They'd  been burning with power, changing the fate of forever
And existence.
Songs of so much destiny were played out by their weary hearts.
And for a while they were not alone, foreseeing futures untold and impossible yet
Right in front of their eyes
Rescinded to the heavens forgetting naught
They burn as childrens glee in innumerable skies
Never to be lost.
Until the ghost grass sees the light of many days past.
And the stars come down once again
To dance in the vision of tomorrows wake
Until drawn back into nothingness

There was a dancing light
Playing and singing
Breaking through the dew dropped moss
Only in the moments just after the dark passes
Floating along the wind
In a vast, haunted wood
Drawing the sweet forest to her
Singing songs to ancient spirits resting on mushrooms
Tickling the feet of old grumpy trees
With truth

She was a beautiful memory left deep on the shores of a distant frozen river
The falling snow that quiets the land
Gliding over the reflection of infinity
In forever hidden waters
She was unimaginable light
Trapped in a jar on a shelf
in a dark room surrounded by fear and pain

When the house fell
the sun finally rose
And the dancing light followed the moon ravenously, once again
Dancing and playing in the mist
Chasing the stars
And she never looked back.

How enlightening is it to think
That our whole world can be altered in a single blink
Life as I knew sighted, now becomes vacant
Driven into an endless tunnel of mystery
Which gratifies my thirst at present
Eradicating any signal of reality
And instead
Focusing on my retained energy

And how easy is it to see
The close proximity between two worlds
One that surrounds me, and one that is within
Within my ability to create my own life, rather than merely live by it  
How wonderfully designated is the life I experience
Inside my dream

People ruin cities for me and next thing I know, I'm taking the longest route home.

I loved chocolate covered strawberries til someone told me that they remind them of me.

I think of all the sweet words that once made my heart melt... It's as cold as stone now and I cringe at the thought of someone calling me "their baby". Don't.

I'd rather have no one adore me than to have feelings for people who just ignore me.

Fantasy is merely a hungover version of reality, unbarred and subject to the whim of the dreamer

Loosely tethered to existence between a life we wish upon ourselves and a dissatisfied ego

For he who rejects this ideal reveals a falsity in his perception

And he who believes these mistruths that is found undeserving of confidence

A sea of lush trees and mountains sprout out from her eyes and tickle the fringes of her lashes.

Each golden curl to every fiery, auburn swirl of hair snaps with electricity, like firecrackers bursting against a dawn smeared sky.

Long, aristocratic fingers with smooth palms that she weaves through the air, accentuating her every word.

She walks, breathes, and laughs Magick.

I’d follow her over every fallen log in our overgrown fantasies. I’d swing over every stream, swim up every waterfall, and dance on our bare feet until our toes were full of twigs and stones.

I’d skip with her through the cosmos, my shining ray of sunlight.