How painful it is to see
The possibility of true love
In someone's eyes,
And knowing that
The world will not take
Your side as you fight
Against all odds
For the impossible....

I climbed a tree
as you may have seen 
to reach the sky
how I must try
limitless possibilities
yet limited capabilities
because when I passed the sky
I couldn't breath so in the vacuum I did die

Answered, thus labeled because views a similarity. Who had this in the hand of the eye’s compact? If presence shifts to absence and believe it is safe in transit, what contract aspires to be an object used against it?

Here must be another present, moving thing for this nonattendance to take place. Its duty need not be nominal. And when it takes place, there is a guarantee for a statement: almost, to a certain extent. Had, adhered, temporary.

This was taken as an insistence of its exclusion as an avowal of its state: when a thing ceases to move, it has named a boundary all within a venue with already christened boundaries. To rise from its nomenclature, a question: what for is this mode? The unassuming and deliberate twofold of its chrome is indicative of something. There are only two possible answers to the question, but never warrants indemnity.

If amorphous then suitable to bend or assume over and over, a confrontational: to hold it against walls everywhere, its color only when dual fixing not a shadow, but the possibility of a shadow. To spill light over the malleable – notice how a body contorts.

If distinct then determined to traverse a straight line, a sanction: to furlough the idea of its controlled variable which is its many possibilities, its shape now not only a name but a force that deals with a believable architecture of compressed options. There is no need for appellation when related to dislimn as a shade is necessary for this disappearance to simulate. But the treachery is that when light surrounds no longer, form somehow a myth as if pausing all lightness to declare something: this is of two explanations merely a single.

Enamored of the possible, and racing,
  Through a winding maze of endless choices,  
  Daunted by the obstacles we're facing, and 
  Dizzied by the clamor's many voices,

Shackled by a heavy chain of causes,
  Binding us to all we've ever known,
  The many paths before us give us pause, as
  We struggle to define which are our own,

Within a world that's not of our own making
    We anxiously await the day we'll find,
    A journey worthy of our undertaking, so
    That purpose in our lives may be defined, but
    
Perhaps our fate condemns us all to wander, and
       Our lives are merely mysteries to ponder

The sun kissed your features,
As if its light knew no other home,
As if its illumination existed solely for you.
The sun bowed to you.

The wind rustled your hair,
Your jade eyes beamed with radiant youth.
Nothing chained us at that moment,
The world was the canvas for our brush.

Your long fingers intertwined with mine,
I turned your face to place a kiss there.
You had warmed my insides,
Taught me to command my own fate.

A dream has enfolded me on this day.
It appeared like a hallucination,
Earlier when I heard her say,
"I'm going to stop drinking."

It enfolded and then I reminded myself
That hope need be maintained,
For she has in the past thought of herself.
I must prepare for her sinking.

I have the utmost hope,
Whether it be absurd or not,
That she will learn without it to cope.
But until it happens that is wishful thinking.

I will support my mother,
Believe in her always,
Though this waiting makes me smother.
Will she return to her drinking?

My mask of confidence will remain static,
Despite my soul's protesting of her claim.
My true thoughts slip when I'm in the attic,
Aloft and away from hearing ears.

I hope she will come through,
I hope that she is strong enough.
I hope she knows what to do,
Otherwise the night will be soaked in tears.

Lying here in this quaint room, with thoughts to roam as they please.
My body stuck with the need to move,
not wanting to stay grounded in the comfort of these sheets.
All winter I was content, in just letting things just be, but today, today, it's like a switch turned on in this body of mine, that is not used to this rush of life, for it is daylight savings time.
An awakening of the soul, from its dormant state.

When tomorrow comes what will there be
other than the wind that dances through the trees?

Will the sun burst and leave us with a lack of peace as the lone survivors run through the streets? Or will our sleep be serene and filled with dreams of pale skies and bright eyes, continuing to survive as if you had nine lives, the downfall here is we only have one.

Sight can be deceiving, it can trick you into believing that tragedy is common and happiness is rare.

the brilliance of the darkness
served only to annunciate
the loudness of the passing silence

While the pervasiveness of the defeated idea
continues to occur in self-[a.s.s].embly lines
The nano utilizes a scope of micro to flesh out the macro

Simultaneous non-being
duly correlates to the emptiness of the tao’s ***-shaped,quantum hat
Possibility is endless, until you enlist knowledge as your retainer
The origin of all particular things is lost
through the knower being zenly slapped,

I just would have loved to help schroedinger's cat
pur.........
what a *****, he wouldn’t even open the box to check her.

Dear ∞ this is my letter to you while I let her be bound in quite comfortably in lazer-light leather.