My limbs are holding on by a string.
They just dangle there unable
To make their presence known.
Or even be helpful to my broken body.

My eyes are blurry with tears
and sunken in. I am unable to see anymore.
All my vision brings me are blurry images
Of the Evil world I once new and belonged to.

My hair is disintegrating.
The strands still left are a dull grey.
They serve no purpose to me anymore.
But still I leave it down on my shoulders.

My lips are a bright pink.
They are my everything.
They reveal the lovely white teeth
waiting to be found.

My lips are the key to my happiness. 
The key to my purpose.
They release the words that no one else can say.
The words no one else dare to speak.

My lips are my anchor to this world.
I speak about everything.
I release my wisdom like droplets of water
in a running faucet. 

My lips are my World.
My lips are my Happiness.
My lips are my Pride.
My lips are my Everything.

I'm nostalgic for a time that's not yet over,
The low hum glow of my phone,
Playing a new,
Chill band I found on Youtube at 3am.

Car ride,
With music blasting my eardrums,
While the shadows of trees cast on my face,
And warm air caresses my cheeks.

My hand on the wheel,
Of my mothers subaru,
Driving through school parking lots.

Lying on the grass,
Looking at the lake,
The sun sets,
And I experience a calm like no other.

"Hi!" I wave,
Another party,
New faces,
Music,
Friends.

More drives,
More music,

I pray this never ends

Cool day,
Sitting in this dressing room
Girls attack me with fits of laughter,
Begging for jokes,
For stories.
Asking me for anything,
To make them feel valued.
"My dad is horrible"
"My parents are divorced"
"I heard Anya cuts herself"
I give them advice,
Pretend that I'm wise,
Even though I'm trying to figure it all out myself.

Dark,
Stars,
Chill,
Night.
Sitting on swings,
Talking to you,
About our entire lives.

I'm nostalgic,

For a time thats not yet over.

But I'll be so devasted when it is.

A/The/My Way (redone)

I never knew I had a ‘way’.
And still it shows up day by day
Laws but felt, themes unmeant;
Through sudden fountains of content;
Through many offshoots but one road,
No signposts to direct or goad.
Still it is:
A kiss of fate though non-insistent,
Usually
An accident and serendipitous.

And because, and just because it is a whisper
I’ve no choice
But to
Tune into
And obey,
Swaying to its hinted push,
The glint of pressure
Nothing but a pure, faint sureness
And a pleasure.    
            
Minutes past I ate three plastic plates of pasta.
Forgive this frilly, dilly of a joke.
I can be such a silly yokel
With punch/pun-ny lines that hit my funny bone(s).

Now I sit with pen in hand
On my verandah, in the wind,
Thankful for not understanding
Karma’s muted law un-grand,
Inscrutable but suitable
To me alone - one on her own
Within the actions and concerns.

A/The/My Way 8.6.2017
Pure Nakedness; Revelations Big & Small; A Sense Of The Ridiculous II;
Arlene Corwin

By Arcassin B & Traveler


T ; What is the secret?
both old and wise,
what keeps the darkness and soul in line?
what sets a day dream free falling in flight?
Is it not the will to stand and fight?
AB : Can't stay away for an evil,
of a country that stripped all your rights,
Are we all lost without sight?
And lost the freedom and will to shine?
Did you wonder it would be alright?
T ; Targeted , tagged and tethered,
stereo typically tarred and feathered,
come up for air,
try to weather,
A world where the second class is ****** forever,
AB : This wicked realm we stay forever,
Every January To December,
If you don't come out swinging on situations,
you'll grow weaker.

Have you seen them,
Flying in the night,
Allured by the brimstone
And the fire light.

Their eagerness
In spectral flight
All in search
Of a source of light.

The moon beckons
But artificial glow
Dazzles their eyes,
As they fly to them
Burning in the hold
That they have them.

Those who are wise,
But at luck follow the moon.
Those stay behind
And die in the first light
Of noon.