Someone, or something,
has wrapped me in syran wrap,
encased me with endless chains,
and pushed me into the ocean,
demanding I swim to the other side.

Picture your pain in a plastic pouch
Put it away till it’s lost like change in your couch
Maybe you’ll miss all this aching
Maybe you’ll be better for the loss
Maybe you won’t ever really rally past it
Maybe your pain is like plastic
Elastic and ready to snap back on you
Perhaps you can send the couch to the cleaners
Perhaps they will take all the pain you were saving
Wash it in foamy suds or dry clean it
Perhaps you should have just thrown it away

the sun came up a little late this morning—
she slipped and slid across the sky
in slippers the clouds had made her
when she was just a kid

when she stood up straight
and stretched her gold ray arms
to hug the creatures below,
I could have felt her embrace
from light years away

she is the youth of the sky
eight minutes behind
shining in her prime
a million questions burning
in her mind
yet she moves on
each dawn and dusk,
she brings the morning
in her smile.

The morning fog dissipates
As it rolls from my mouth
The skulls never say yes
They try to sabotage my path
Crashing trees inside of my head
Echoes bouncing off the walls
Voices drive me to trudge through the darkness
Particles of light reflecting in the fog
My only source of sight
The voice of El Valiente guides me
Would trusting be a good decision?
El Valiente leads my soul
Dancing to an unholy melody
The deceptive truth sparks a revelation
My heart’s on fire like a sparkler
Fueled by a truthful lie
When will I wake from this beautiful nightmare?
Do I even desire consciousness?
Do I love this, or do I fear?
Unable to articulate dread,
One sees no cause,
Assumes no end.
To avoid all manners of judgment,
This is my belief.

Limitless affection,
My affection is limitless.
Like a clock without a long arm
my love is minuteless
but a message
with no recipient is meaningless,
Still I Love....

My eyes fight to shield me from the dark
With my last waking nerve I think of wrong and right
How much I want to be a good person
Why the devil is so fond of using me as a pawn when clearly I am a queen
Or at least I'm trying to be
I can go anywhere I want but not like a knight
For I am not chivalrous enough
The tides of disease will rush in to take you
But I will not move a muscle for I am grounded from moving in the way of an L...
As in Love