Utah is a bubble
And Rosario (Argentina) is the cigarette **** of Satan himself
Everything sacred burns
to the ground in this city, and it all started when the moths started to come out in the daytime.
They aren't afraid anymore.
The skeletal souls of men sense us in the streets, their scrawny hands ***** for reality through the haze--
But I'm not what they think. There is no price tag, no label, no packet of instructions- I am the very convincing candy wrapper with nothing inside (and there is an emptiness that swallows me up like a cough drop when the strangers tell me I'm beautiful)
Life doesn't come with golden tickets or rewind buttons
(I've sewed so many into my sweaters just to watch them unthread themselves and leave my soul gaping open again)
I imagine myself (in the end) trying to cover my existence with the filthy rags that remain of my life
By their fruits ye shall know them, but I prefer vegetables.
... Am I going to Hell?

i dangle my feet over the edge of hell.
i'll never do it,
but i wonder if i will ever be able to braid my hair by myself
tie my shoes
smile like a two year-old who thinks cookies are the purpose of having teeth and a tongue

if i search in darkness, i will surely find despair
and there is a cellphone light glowing in my face
as i write this
so i should pursue this happiness
this temporary thrill i get from internet existence

The reason I left was not of your being
It was that side of you kept well hidden, not for seeing
The preliminary basis of a concealed fact
A genuine warning sign maintained with tact
It restrains your hands and demeans your worth
While contemplating the test next time around that you'll see Earth
Slender body in my arms but your vision is crying
A feeling so horrible to give up trying
Dying each day to be born anew
With Depraved Heart sentience for filling that shoe

At first in your voice I heard inspirational phrases
Peering through the rain for better weather phases
Fighting and twisting to match their ennui
But you bounded through all the reciprocity
Catching the vapor updraft with that shy grin
Remembering the skin you're wearing is genuine
You march to that drum beat sounding the lightning storm
Of A cold heart blowing in the wind, unaware that it's warm

So in breaking your heart you'll hear love again and take flight
Prance with every step and paint a newly blank canvas full of fight
The part of you crying, "missing puzzle piece hidden in plain sight!"
Is the very same light within you I've seen shine so bright
And know I came to realize by the end of this night...
The next day and Tomorrow are yours to write

Dance of happiness
Smile of contentment
Tranquility of wisdom
Radiance of love
Beacon of leadership
Gratitude of acceptance
Euphoria of self realization
Harmony of silence
Embrace of cosmic truth
Strength of renouncing
Living for the moment
Belief in eternity
Journey of Life
Profound existence

You have my breath taken.
You have my whole world shaken.
Your love gradually healed my pain.
I yearn to be a recipient of sweet kisses in the rain.
Let’s dwell in the mist of bliss.
I’ll wait for my winter hug and summer kiss.
These are my intimate thoughts.
Interludes of profound emotions.

First, I am the rising sun
and on the coast, I am the crashing waves at dawn
I am the forest murmur, the silent song
I am the nameless nativity,
and when you slow your pace to a stillness, I am there.

My radiance fills the hour and the place
footsteps fall, that leave no trace;
I am the passing cloud, a deep breath you take
cracks in the pavement, a grand escape.

I am your love's embrace, and so much more,
the thunderous sound and the dancing floor,
I am the moments laughter, and biting pain;
my full embrace can drive you insane.

I am the twilight and the milky way,
you find me on the mountain, and as you peak,
and see me in the haze that billows when you speak;
I am the city lights that pull the stars from the heavens to earth;
and when you find me, remember that I am you.

Willows whisper secrets in my ear;
secrets that I cannot hear.
I wish and wonder why
the wisdom I am given is so profound.

Deep, intense… vision and insight
without a useful purpose.
Feels much like a thorn I cannot find…
constantly digging into my side.

I do not understand the what or the when;
Amnesia has stolen most of my development.
But memories are more than mere facts;
The procedures and the logic and the sense remain.

A sense of which I cannot describe…
It tastes a bit like dry, red wine.
Bites my tongue, rendering all vocalization
incoherent; all memories distorted.

I search, I scan, I compare, I analyze…
And, ultimately, I suspend.
Permanence I will fight to the end.
Purpose is to be made… and not to be found.

Perhaps this coherence is not profound.
Perhaps it is of common sense.