When I look into the moon I see the only dependent part of me that still exists. Its as if the silence in her vocal cords spoke words of solitude. I gave her the only bio mechanical part of me that mattered.

The gears in my chest keep turning like clock work.
I count seconds into minutes and minutes into hours and hours into days. I keep thinking time is standing still while im still standing still.

I'm waiting, waiting on patience and as unjustified as it sounds I'm impatient. Dreams are just your natural thoughts heavily sedated, a sub-conscious reality based off the feelings we cant display them.

I don't consider myself a writer, I see the constant flow of words and as a kid it left me inspired. I'm more of the sub concious reality type. I drink coffee and outside of that I really don't have a life.

For me writing is self exspression without being judged by others.
I opinionate my feelings and organize them in ink. The papper is my empty canvas, my thoughts are my judgment, and the pen is the deliverer.

Sometimes writing is the only thing that can stitch my wounds, like the words curved inside my brain penetrating like the needlesof a tattoo. I wonder what will become me, in what paradox will I redeem the sum of me?

I just hope this bio mechanical heart ticks away. I hope people continue to be people with different mindsets and open steeples. I want love to be found and dreams to be created.

Kalvin Moon

lift me off the ground,
lift me in the air.
the sky is clearer here,
the air purer.
my head feels clean
your hands tickle.
lift, lift
lift me up.

Yeah I like plants now..
I notice other peoples plants in their yard and find myself asking them one evening " what kind of plant is that?"  The conversation carries on and we talk about things I never cared about. Turns out, The things I don't care about are a lot more intersting than the things I do..  I decide to grow some roses in my front yard and they bloom in the spring and sometimes in the fall.  Turns out I have what they call a green thumb.. I have the most beautiful roses in town.. I find myself driving a lot slower.  Even when im in my Corvette.. I drive slow hoping this ride will last forever.. I use to drive fast everywhere.. But driving slow gets you there better..  Even if there is no place at all..  I find myself going to small towns more.. Just passing through makes my soul feel better.. Sometimes I stop and walk some random sidewalk.. Under the sun in some small town I have never been to.  So don't be scared to grow a plant, don't be scared to slow down, and don't be scared to go to a random small town.. Life is to fast.. Theres no need to try and get ahead of it.. Just ride with it and see a lot more even if your in one place..

And when you fast
Sate your hunger
With more of the Father

And when you fast
Weld it as a weapon
And prepare for battle
For his coming kingdom

And when you fast
Fast with intent
Ignore your stomachs dissent
And listen to reflect
And listen to expect
More than you had dreamt

And when you fast
Take your fill
Of all that he has in store
For yours and you

And whenever you fast
However you fast
Don't be downcast
Fast with a laugh

Disheveled and groggy, I wake to your smile as you calmly run your hand over your face.
Tired eyes meet mine and I welcome you.
I grasp my pillow when I am urged to hold you;
You are not mine.
Your eyes are focused on your phone and impulse begs me to take it,
throw it to the side,
and kiss you.
It beckons me to distract you from the hectic that has been your recent days.
I clench my pillow.
You turn your attention to me and ask what the matter is.
The anger dissipates from your clouded eyes when landing on me.
As dim as the room is, it reminds me of moonlight.
Soft, embracing.
Instead of responding, I trace the flames on your right forearm.
In this moment, I am warm.
You do not further in asking, instead you lean your head against mine and let out an exasperated sigh.
My free hand clenches my pillow.
Inside I am imploring,
"I want to love you how she never could.
"I want to love you purely.
"I want to love you wholesome."
Instead, I softly press my lips against the tattoo I was tracing.
Your fingers loosely find their way to mine, and we lay.
Quietly,
Comfortably.
I recite the moment I kiss your lips.
I plan it, step by step.
Perfectly.
Doubt drowns me out and while our lips are mere inches apart,
this is not the moment I will close the gap.
I instead bring my eyes to yours and scream every emotion I am feeling.
You grin softly at me and lay your head down, closing your eyes.
I lazily drape an arm across your chest and you drift off with an arm around me.
As you drift away to the sleep you **** well deserve,
I whisper all of the things I'd never tell
you
while you
were
awake.

I am trying
but trying doesn't make
deep wounds heal any faster,

and you rubbing salt in them
does not help them to
hurt any less.