Red, and it's my best colour
My favourite mood
Smooth with lust and passion
But remember to take time
Recluse and resign
In crimson divine
Rest your body
And your mind
Teach your soul new things

Retreat to your sweet tooth
With sister shades of beetroot
Magic promotions of your moon-tide
Emotion hurling joyride
Relax as your muscles un-hide
Find your knots and dots
And plot as you breathe the outside

Paint yourself in feelings of taboo
Slip sleepy into daydreams
Ego embrace as you create
A silhouette that forgets she is you

She was his stars
                                                                                            He was her moon
                                      Both lighting up the night.
He wished but never had hope
                                                             She had faith but lacked conviction
                              Neither one had been fully sincere.
He withdrew from the light
                                                                                    She was lost in the fog
                        The moon and stars gradually evanesced
                                 Until only darkness remained.

Oh, how quickly does the moon reach the sky?
Made thy dwelling in the wide blue yonder;
Cold summer night limbers up without try;
The ether opens wide, to thee it grows fonder
Revolving in an eccentric orbit,
Desolate beauty of magnetic depth;
More captivating than thousand comets,
Making the earth livable is thy strength
Yet thine existence is causing the tides,
Waters and rocks rise and fall in each pull;
Creating rhythm and chaos inside
Oh how swift is the glide from full to fool?
Since earth holds thy not, slowly drift away
Howbeit, memories to the core shall stay.

Painted it in the deep
dark night.
Still, it's the moon
of zillions of stars!

I am holding myself accountable
For now, but not always
There's times when I should have
been the first to say I'm sorry
Of course we all have those times.
We must all have those times.
To err, to caution, to be human
Questioning if you said or did
What was right, most kind
The best possible actions
Achieving the most perfect outcome

But I cannot hold myself hostage
To reckoning with perfection
Nor can anyone else reasonably
****** me upon such a pedestal
and expect me to preform
my best, most absolute
unconditional, unequivocal
gestures of good faith
If they have not made themselves
Stand tall in such high places
Responsibly bearing the weight
Of being incorruptible to errors


I allow myself to look within
And search for the answers
As to why there's always this desire
To be something more than
The accumulation of cells and dust
That surrounds my innermost self
It seems like finding answers
Will have to start with asking questions
As to why I am the way I am
Right here in the now.

If I can shape myself into anything,
more than or less than
what I already am right now
How can I ever truly be myself?
How to begin knowing myself
If it was never really clear as to
what my self was to begin with?
Where is the source of who I am?
What I am? How I am, and why?
What happens if I stripped away
All that I am and put the pieces
back together in a different way?
Would I become someone else,
or something else entirely?

I have always wondered
If wondering will be good enough
In search of the answers
In search of the miraculous
An inner earth within the earth
which I heard only
existed in pages of a book
Written in the sand
A very long time ago

If you looked into yourself
and saw a mirror reflecting
the parts of other people
you either hated or loved,
Could you continue to look
at yourself when others called on you
and honestly say to them,
"Look, I am what I've become"?