Learning the lessons that happened before
as they come round again in various forms.
Same faces and places setting up themes, we don't always see the patterns between.
Trends tend to reset and test us again, emotions take hold but not as our friend.
Sunk in a cycle of continuous loops, failing to think they may hold just one truth.

Decisions of a short-term visionary, skewed and responsive to his or her needs. This irreverent mist often follows a dip, perspective changes a clouded verdict.
Crystal clarity can skip our reality
as permissions transition beyond each dream,
when we look to our heroes who sit at the peak.

As a kid, I know I saw air shows
although none specific stand out,
I know there were skies that
buzzed and thundered
the sound of determined direction

at each one I know there would be pilots
who threw small planes in tight loops

everyday, pulling back on the stick,
taunting gravity to notice and push,
barrelling to a zenith
of impossible weightlessness, momentary,
before the nauseous crush returned,
over and over in front of an audience

and I know I watched and thought
“That’ll be me one day.”

The petals are already wilting
Is their stay really so short?
What irony twists is whim
but such is life
there is no end to a rim
The hoops of my own eyes mirrors that of reality itself
also that of my own sanity
Is it sanity that makes me seek infernal truth?
Is it a different sanity that makes others blind?
Is it insanity which seeks eternal youth?
Is it insane to wish
of seeing petals in perfection
one last time?

Needed someone
to understand
if you fall
you can get up again.
-Why glass bottles
are full of sand,
how it goes
round and round.
Nothing's bound forevermore
not hate nor love.

How can I feel like this once again,
Like I’m falling through the floor I thought was made of stone.
I came so far but on closer inspection perhaps I’ve been going in circles.

I appear to have lost my way, stumbled on my way out of the woods,
And lost myself in the night sky.
Perhaps I stood too long looking up at the stars.

Well I stopped to smell the flowers and the world passed me by.
A great wind knocking me down to my knees again, just like old times, old friend of mine.

A knot of truth hangs over me,
more a promise that all things
      come together.

Were a straight line that if
    you take enough steps
leads to an amphitheatre of

                         echoes

reverberating around and around
         resonating with this truth

that all things have a balance.

We start, end, doesn't matter if we
                   stand still of reach for the

heavens..

Eventually we'll just swing silently
                like a extinguished light bulb

hanging dead in the abyss.

This femme fatale
A girl that captures
She be bright and skin tight
Shiny white with youth implied
Conversing in quirky loops
As we jump through her hoops
Slowly showing error codes
Could it be the alcohol
Clap snap of bear traps
Broken from within
Signs of white lines that fracture
Reactions to vast echoes of her past
Trauma tinged before the dawn
Soft but informed
A hardened persona with claws

I am going around in circles



It's too dark

everything is too tall;

all the same.



I am going in circles



People telling me I'm worth it

around, around, around

But I still deny it.



I am going in



sane; what a sought-after word

circles, circles, circles

I can't seem to walk in a straight line.



Am I in?



There's a tunnel of light

going, going, going

that I want to run into.



I am..



A bit dizzy; I feel sick

in, in, in

I want to get somewhere



I



Unable to move from these loops

am, am, am

I collapse to the ground, out of breath.