It’s funny how you had me run to your

needs and everything I did it was with

ease, no time to sit back because I was on

your track so if it derailed I knew how to

bounce back, it wasn’t fated or in no

contract I just knew your soul was reading

my context, ever so lifted engraved with

transition full of life and always in the

distance; you filled my days with ignition,

simplistic with intentions but not gathered

by good decisions, we parted ways when

Moses split the sea leaving thoughts behind

as if you were a daydream, a cutoff to the

main stream but I reopened up those doors

like a dam who was in need, refreshing

with a lesson but filled those pages with

wages and empty spaces for me to erase,

create and fill a void that ached with greed,

I knew life would prevail I stood my

ground and watch the ocean exhaled with a

stare that came in like a seclusion hoping

you weren’t the reason I was choosing

Silent Picture Book
worm-etched warmth
cocoon coop-cope
deep-dive wings
emerald waters Shores

Molokai Melting Man
mouth moon moth

main inspiration mute
moon cold draft move
press inscript pencil
sun rising melts still
thread resounding threat

sane symmetrical sense
eyes emotional ease

bucket-thirsty feel
head-first thought
emotional leech
inner world melt
outer word felt

Episteme
Contingency
Emperical Premise
Take a day to live in
Essential State Locus
of Self,
I being
I thinking you must be
for me
to think
of giving you
a piece
of my mind, thinking out being

existing, ist, nicht wahr, amness

I am as ware as any that wars
have never made things better,
Armegeddon fought by volunteers,

shall not be the final solution haters hope.

if this line exists, then you
have existence, here, and now,
in my past and your present, per

haps in process
of happening,
let using letting, let us presume
truth is discernible taken as being,

what is, is true, what isn't, isn't
truly imaginable
in and of itself,
having no being manifestly true.

Where as it has been said,
a word to the wise is enough.

Our of nowhere, invisible hands grab me.
Fingers sharpened to tiny needles stabbing me all over.
Internal bleeding I beg could finish me off.
My lungs burn for life,
but I burn for limited air supply.
My legs itch to run,
but I know better than to try again.
****** footsteps leave traces
for the invisible hands to find me again.

I started isolating
Myself, used to
Say everything
I was feeling
But then I guess
I just stopped
I wanted them to
Love me for who
They thought
I was
And not who I felt
Myself becoming

Ever think about
How horrified the
People we loved
Would be if they
Found out who
We really are?
So we dig deeper
Into our lies everyday
Ultimately hurting
The only
People who
Are brave enough
To love us
Wish I was
Brave enough to
Love them back

We don't have
As much time
As we think