Cauliflower, figs,

the dissecting room Kitchen:


I cut brains and hearts.

On this page, I'm in spring
the flowers blooming,
birds chirping,
and nature, flourishing.

On the next page, it's winter
the leaves are withered,
the floor, snow-covered
and nature, from the cold shivers.

On the following page, I'm royalty,
basking in wealth and glory,
overlooking the masses,
whilst enjoying all delicacies.

On the following one, I'm on the streets,
scavenging and pilfering,
experiencing what life is
for the destitute.

Each page takes me
on a different journey.
It wraps me amidst its words
and carries me along in its story.
It's neverending and ever-soothing.

To you, I might appear lost;
as I am drowned in the world of books;
my mind drifting from one universe
to another.
But I can't be anymore aware,
right, found, and alive in this world,
than I am in reality.

Fly me away
To the moon
And fill my head up
With all of
You.

A million restless nights, and then
A million
More.

Haven’t you had enough
Time in my head
To settle the
Score?

I close my eyes
And let the truth fade,

Blissful ignorance
Is what brings me no
Pain.

If I pretend not to know
So much,
Too much,
Will you stay the same?

There's a compass rose

in the sand, raise your finger:


what wind is blowing?

Are you the catalyst?
Are you my muse?
My master?
My Shaman?
My guide?

Or some drifter who sparked something
Dead in me...
Too dormant to pry from
The floorboards by myself

I would've never seen
What I could be if you
Didn't light the match
You were,
Are,
Will be,
my hidden passion
Inspired if you only did
what I was asking

We could somehow,
Still be
Now the tables turned
If only you could deal with me
You were my peer
Yet my professor
Froze any lessons Into lectures
Pressure is setting in

Hope you know I'll always be
Your biggest fan
Flat characters in a bad romance

I coulda wrote
with half my wit tied
behind my back
Doesn't make this any less real
The ritual thins the veil
Please tell me
you can feel ...
This
Whatever IT even is
Are you my mystic ?
Or my mediator ?
My handler ?
Or myself ?
Displayed on a face

I've hallucinated
Just to keep me company
Yet you reply
And react
as if you were made to

Maybe your the simulation
Or were tailor made to
make me whole
I dunno...

Informing people

means measuring carefully --


concealing a lot.

I can understand that one is knowledgeable,
While understanding that this is not correlative or indicative of intelligence.
Likewise, I can understand one is both, or can be both,
And respect that in specific.
Yet; I can likewise understand,
That while the aforementioned individual(s)
Merits respect in that or those specific aspect(s) and/or attribute(s),
That that individual lacks patience & compassion.
And so that individual is ultimately unworthy/undeserving
Of any greater respect than in understanding them.

Otherwise, I hamper myself & only hinder others
In both intelligence & understanding.

Conversely, I can appreciate that one may understand what they're talking about
Even if I don't fully understand the experience as described.
Whether this is an aspect of one's own ignorance, as in a lack of understanding or confusion,
Or to/by the nature of how/what information is conveyed.
I can appreciate that communication can sometimes be difficult.
I can respect that individual still;
But only if they're earnestly, honestly trying & attempting to.
Only if they're honest & forthright in it & even about it.

Otherwise, they hamper only themselves & hinder others
In both knowledge & intelligence.