It's uncharacteristic of me,
but I want them
to feel pain

It's time, in truth,
I decided,
justice is in order

I am in anger
for the misdeeds
they have done.

She sees me
like everyone
had before
they came and
messed it up.
And in truth, it
was time for her
to arrive

She reminds me of
who I am.
I remind myself of
who I am.
I will remind them
of who I am.

It's time for them
to understand
what they've done
to everyone they deem
lesser. To live that life.

No longer will they paint
pictures of me.

I'm an agent
of retribution
and I won't let
anyone disrespect
me.

You're no friend,
you're no ally.
You watched as
you burned me
of every of my
good quality.

"I always wonder what the reward is for hard work
Until I get to the place
where I can tell
It always fascinates me
How different a revival can be

In my dreams we converse on some sort of magnitude in community

It's like we are all friends in a field
Slipping past eachother by accident

We all try to play by the rules but I could never understand it too consciously.

What I'm trying to say- errrr..
I guess I'm not 'trying' to say anything.

It's about as early in the morning as it can get and I've awoken too much now to see clearly.

I guess if there were a point to this it'd be that I think everyone's coming around, atleast to something good- I'd like to atleast think so.

Soooo I'm happy about that ! To say the least. It's nice to think some normalcy and goodness is being fostered.

To you and only you, I'm glad we are in a relationship- I think we are trying to understand eachother as best we can and I value and love that we trust eachother. I've enjoyed all these sides of you sweetheart and I think you are consciously allowing me the space to make my dreams a reality. I'm content. As much as its a fun challenge to understand eachother or even our own selves. I believe we come out on top; right in the end. I love you !

Thanks for reading my little poem after having some interesting dreams"

It'd be interesting to
document my thoughts
and prayers or meditations or imagination
1:1.
There's always some bit
of confusion.
Do you know what I mean ?

so many people
I pray for-
I used to write
Just to soothe
someone
that felt a little
like me.

flowers for her,
floating by
in a river.

his hiking boots
stepping into
Spring time.

I know love is
so cyclical-
I'm growing
ever
more cynical.

I'll let her take
me to her sunny
benches if she
let's me.

Like an oyster
or a baby reef,
she's opening
herself slowly
to a possibility
of being hurt
by others.

lover in the grass
looking up at the tree
wonders what it means
for them to be free

Sky.
I love that name.
She giggles bubbles
from her breast,
she's a toe slug,
a kitty named Dog.

I wanna go on a trip with you,
sell plants by the highway.
carry mischief,
Kerry Feather.
golden flower,
golden head hair.

loose pants,
silky rayon.
She lies on
her stomach,
we're a
blanket picnic.

The greasy sparks falling to fire before the bright sunlight dawn were the flame phoenix preening the moon's psychosis dreamings

A part of him were left in the shadow but faceted just above an ignorant nullification like a drain maintained by a fresh shaving

Each fallen hair or falling feather may whisper in empty spaces or wearied pipes
but only in the darkness of darkness' nighttime trickster limericks

Morning river mist
Cascading lulling water
Single falling leaf