Will these words ever reach you?

Will you ever understand?

That it has always been about you

As if it’s been planned

All those silent pleas

All the prayers to the gods

All the words I’ve whispered

Through this life I’ve plod

The winds have carried my thoughts

The shadows, my longings

Every sunrise, my hopes

And every sunset, my dreamings

Moving at such a momentum that is necessary for the mere realization makes any attempt of catching yourself futile. You’re moving too fast with entirely too much force. Your fingers scrape at hard dirt sides, the glass that sand once was cuts once again. Branches turn into hot, fiery rope in the palms of your hands.
Just fall.
Land well.
And begin to ascend….
Yet again.

happiness in my life exists transiently.
never have i been able to trust it completely.

on the occasions that things consistently go right,
my stomach drops and my mind keeps me awake at night.

i ponder why i must live in constant fear.
perhaps, it's due to the leaving of people i once held dear.

my hands clasp and try to hold you tight,
but my inner negativity makes this a constant fight.

i pray that one day happiness will be a friend to me.
that i won't fear its leaving and enjoy life peacefully.

"You are what you eat" they say it so often you would think they were just chewing with their mouths open. You happen to be so many other things than the diet you keep. I think "you are how much you sleep" would be an equally fair claim to your self identity. We regurgitate these talking points with such little consideration and worse we build our lives around these quotations because they are embossed over a scenic, awe-inspiring image on Instagram. These metaphors are so far removed from their original context that they could almost mean anything to anyone inside of their own head. Too often in juxtaposition to one another these contradictory ideas subside inside of you disguised as a rational point of view. Maybe you are what you eat or how much you sleep but do you ever wonder who's words become your thoughts?

We all have our secret hideaways, we all have our cures, and our bandage solutions, and we all have addictions.

You will eat to fill the hollow kindly provided by someone who's left you lying in bed at night, wondering why you weren't good enough, or maybe even just enough, to make them stay.

We all carry earbuds...more like soulbuds. Hello music, goodbye world, goodbye sorrow. We all break down, no matter how hard we hide it, no matter how well we can disguise it...eyes can't lie, but they sure can act.

And we all try to bandage our wounds, though we're the worst doctors. I puke smiles, you puke smiles, we ALL puke smiles...

but no one's meant them for a while.

Isn't there a better way?
O'er this snakeskin shedding,
Than this slow emotional death
Looking for cartharsis
Never to be?

Please, make me, me.
Release me from the birdcage,
And tell me where to dream.

Ah, I look for a tool of my own,
Somewhere buried in the dirt,
Because I am a plow without purpose,
A sword in peacetime.

Sheathed, but mostly lost.
Meaningless, but not wandering,
and so there is no journey,
no art.


Stagnation. Ah.
And a slow morose breath.
Just one long, inhale
For no greater cosmic purpose,
Than the exhale, fleeting.

What a beauty, she said in my agonizing reverie.
Smiling, turning, leaning,
Oyasumi, Good morning.
And the sun's lights ne'er did beam.
The morning stayed dark.
I died, there
heart still beating.

I think it's crazy
How we've all been brainwashed
Into believing that one of us
Can change nothing

We've been taught
To only see Adolf's evils
And to ignore
The magnificence of his rise

We're told stories of revolutionaries
In such a way
That we only dream of revolution
And settle for the man's reality

Isn't it amazing
How we've all been coaxed
Into believing one alone is insignificant
Selectively forgetting all starts with one

You, Me, She, or even He
Could change this world
With the right words and work
But we won't

We've been brainwashed
Into
*Insignificance

Where are you?
Just below my chin
I've noticed
Just above my heart
It screams
And then that certain sting
Of grief
Of suffering
Just behind the ribs

Through the doorway
And straight ahead
And you were gone that quickly

Deep down
In some instinctual part of me
I crave the light of your energy

Looking around,
Finding no hope
Just more and more lonely things

This void without you
Like a home
But nothing left in it
Except for the windows

So this same part of me
It waits for you
Residing in this eviscerated home
Until the day you will see me again
And join me
Finally living there,
Together,
Again

But until then,
The windows ache for the sight of you

A subtle visitor,
You are more than this image
I hold of you
This image that is like a beautiful bunch of flowers
That I hold between my tightened fists
Every single day

You are like nobody since I have loved you
Who is the person that strings you out in bunches of stars
Like garland for the night sky?
Who is it that writes your name
In letters of smoke
Amongst the clouds?

Please,
Let me remember you as you were
Before you existed in this context

You are here
You do not run away

I know that
I will always answer you
To your last cry
Curl my love around you
As though I am afraid I might never feel love again

I love you,
And the pain of that
Bites my bottom lip
It bleeds
And swells a little

I love you
Again
And again

When did love become the same thing as pain?

Solitude defines us.
When our spirits are colliding, and we crash into the silence
of Nothing.
We are not
what we eat,
how we dress,
or who we love,
we are chaos and electric meat
our weary bones,
collapsed with madness.
Left Alone, our fragile souls ignite
and many wither...
As the flames of isolation
reduce the blaze to a glimmer
Til the fires have been weakened
enough to destroy.

Our Souls,
Left to Wander,
Lost in the Aether...

Our Passing Thoughts,
Preserved Eternally,
behind tiny glass windows,
inside little plastic boxes.

We hold this glass over our flames, and suffocate the fires.
Planned Obsolescence: Our Model Has Expired.