A passing of a message
as the hologram, begins..
Do the things we  create  on earth
really wash away our sins?

Paintbrush, dips
onto medium  that slips

   off-center,
   from that  which really is.

Such an energy, spent
of our time--  
to us.. only lent
    to see   
            if we
are self-centeredly, bound
                  ..or heaven sent.

The glass broke
Like my voice when I spoke
When my head insisted
But my heart persisted
But life goes on
Ill be "ok" by dawn

lonely in the sea of people
overwhelmed while being alone
craving you to like me
while praying that you don't

didn't know the colors
seeing in black and white
all the flaws seemed see through
despite hours sacrified to hide

naked between the sheets
pillows soaking the tears
and all this because
mirror was my worst enemy

if there has to be a god,
then i am godless; making it necessary
in my "belief" system
for you to be godless too.

for me to accept my eternal fate,
i must know god's eternal fate for his follies.
i am not and must not be
a fleeting plaything, put to test.

i will not meet my maker
because i have no intention of doing just that.
my maker must stoop to my level,
i will not be the first to ask.

i am owed a visiting card.
what must i do while i wait
for something
that must not arrive now and ever?

my pain is that i must bide my time.
that's it. that is all there is to it.
time is why i suffer,
i am why i mustn't.

in a vacation of
living in the timeless,
god holds no judgement
over pain he has not experienced.

must god exist?
one should hope not.
therefore, he hides.

Drifting and silent.
Into an abyss.
Understanding,
But not speaking.
Knowing,
But not answering.
Overpowering talent,
With no action.
Seeking purpose somewhere.
Being pushed into the future,
No feeling of freedom.
Everyone around is predictable but I act clueless.
I can tell when they lie but I act foolish.
Potential, hidden and rejected.
Looking at it, but it never reflected.
A mirror with no reflection is what I kept hidden.
Something so rare, nothing could compare.
This different way of thinking was dangerous.
I questioned many things, and my questions damaged rings.
I questioned life, I questioned what was above, I questioned about love.
My questions were unanswerable sometimes.
Some of them, I did want the answer.
Some of them, I already knew the answer.
And others didn't want to be answered.
I wonder how it felt to be asked these questions.
Maybe I was coming off as rude.
For others, it was probably viewed as an attitude.
So for my own sake, I kept my lips glued.
Silent, once again.
Maybe another time I could ask questions until the end.

Selmhem Naise

What would you do  
if you knew there was a light source   whose
very nature  could illuminate the back
sides of molecules and atoms;  as if
the source did not come from its point of origin
but instead--  permeated all-throughout  
    from all sides at once..  in all directions--
    at the same time;  simultaneously..

    yet also perpetually

..and if so-- where could one hide  from the
knowing-ability  of light of this nature
that chooses to have "known-ability".

What if
by chance,  in life here on earth
we are given the dignity to choose,  through
autonomy.. the freedom to hide--
the power to place, even if through illusion;
obstacle,
 
and create shadow from a light, that knows no shadow.

What if,  the nature of love  that is also light
chooses  through muse, as one of its loving ways,
to pierce through obstacle  created
by autonomy's oftentimes, need to hide-

What if.

Wouldn't that then be an act of kindness..
and also a beautiful act of honor  towards autonomy
to not force its way in through power
but instead.. coax,  through heart-persuasion?

..And that much more a gift  muse would be
if one were to know  that at the end  of life
would be the complete and full removal  of obstacle
      in order  to know  
   and be fully known?

Without loving acts such as muse
what would be "knowable"  within us
if obstacle were never penetrated,  

   here
in the land of the living?


What if.