it's a privilege and a responsibility to have someone listen to you.
Dont take all those gifts for granted.

my soul is steady
my mind is racing
as my heart rages for you.

no
no revenge from me

time
time is all good needs
to overcome
to overcome schemes of evil

One day soon that feeling may fade
soon to be it cauterize and spayed
it was death defied now withered and decayed
a priest may save a priest may say
here lie my soul, here lie my grave
there lie my peace, there lie my grace

oh how he crashes under the own
weight we made.
feels like relief as the waters flow
between him and me.
and i feel so calm
and he looks it too.
the warmth of the depths
like a warm blanket hugging.
So tell me why do I still pain.

you see something in me ?

i'd like to know, just to
know what you see

your eyes, they
reveal all i could
want in a millennia
of stars

your beauty, can
you see it in me ?
i want to be beautiful
i want to be a man
of great example

everything i
see internally
is just an extension
of what others
have given me,
a word amongst
a sentence spoken
by another,
yet there's something
so unique and
perfect about
a placement of
one word

i need a gift
lord, i need
your gift.
i need a lift
lord, i need
a lift.
only if i
deserve it
lord, only
if i deserve it

love is an expression
I would never deny
myself.

it is relief to
say what it
is that has
been in my heart,

I would never not
regret to say it
to whomever
may be in
my mind.

no retreat
no advance
merely
standing my ground.

tell me what it is there is to say
and with my sense I shall
find the truth to your love.

do you forget me with difficulty?
a room full of people
with the feeling
of one christmas light missing
amongst other starry hearts?
embrace that darkened part
and that light might still
go unshined,
a risk unmeasured.

i am tired of the shenanigans
i don't like any of you,
but my love can be
so easily abused
from the part of my heart
i left to you.

NO ROOM FOR FIGURING HARD FEELINGS IN YOUR HEAVEN

I'VE FOUND THE PATH OF LEAST RESISTANCE IS A ***** DOWNWARD.
A SLIDE; A JOYRIDE.

i can accept failure
just as much as i can let it go.

i never felt the liberation of saying how i felt.
i took it too far,
too fast.
it truely intoxicating. all of the jars
i sealed shut for years bursting forth
with the power of my newfound soul.

the dreams get tough.
when the uncontrollable trip
leads me back to seeing your
middle split hair head.

i am powerless to even try to
look into your eyes.
i fail to even describe
the repulsion i feel from your
eyes. i wasnt there to see you,
but we watched along to a movie
in a theater near a cafe i all
made in my head. hoping,
maybe knowing, you were
watching along too.

my pathetic attempts of reconnection are just that.
when the barriers are so massive
i can only seem to play wall-ball by myself.

sorry to those that have no clue what in the sam **** im talking about lol

here i am integrating myself through electronical internet connectivity.
i will eventually integrate myself with the blissful nature connectivity.

what a thoughtful idiot

reeling, my heart.
you are responsible
i have paid my dues.

if you only get better through spite,
hate my ******* guts
and get to work.

insanity strikes gold strings
ivory board of divine fruit
i pluck each like candy
divining to the next
gathering and struggling
through thorns of storm
the sounds stay similiar
maybe thats why they feel like home

is there something wrong about finding beauty in a flower even if it's fake ?
it surely wasn't placed there for me in your abandonded car.
and there are some budding white ones nearby.
I don't even know, I can hardly keep track of anything nowadays.
I'm a fish-head or some pontificating ape or just some bozo you might hate, love, or ignore, or even might be scared of.
J can't even tell, no not one bit.
Maybe my face is just one faded memory waiting to be rediscovered;
maybe I've lost you so many days that I haven't even kept any count.

it warps and it wanes,

when I'm with you.

time becomes a black sand,
a grainy but flowing
sloeberry melanin river.
time becomes as soft as
the Sun's beach and
like a hot humidity
upon sickly lungs.
it warps and it wanes,
when I'm with you.
The mountains could
hug and
the sky could comfort,
the storms are
alive with every
thunder strike of
tempestous grace.
time runs in
the forests until
its breath couldn't catch,
it flies until the wind
won't carry it longer,
it sits and rests
in eternal days.

you wouldn't believe me
that some of those nights
were the worst I ever had.
and it just, kind of, kept happening.
worse when you were gone.
but, were you?

love is not a school of science,
    that is why you fail
       if you test
         for a grade.

maybe ill carry this loneliness to the next life,
an intrepid ghost: a hovering nomadic,
tasked to obtain series of higher virtues alone irregardless of each of their truely unobtainable natures.
for when I reach into that ubiquitous
nihility between the realm of our reality, I only feel the tease of God's fingers goading for my spirit-the light - to reach for greater as I grow lesser in the eyes of others; no more loving guise.
My heart does replete of its ironic painstaking undertaking. Beating a song only I would sing. Doomed listening for the slow drum that matches my own.

truth: delusion founded in another delusion.
If we don't know all the answers,
we are merely guessing.

she bounds in
vivacious curiosity,
confounds with
hidden sweetness,
and has surprises of
endless mystery.

she is a conduit
of marginal talent,
a paintbrush given
to the immaterial
levees.

a childhood friend,
a silent (but spoken)
trusted individual.

you'd be lucky to
pass her any day.

you think you can't
but I feel you can.
I know what it's like
to be human,
it's surprising how
similar each of us
really is
at the core.

I hear you in between
life and death,
hear the words you
won't use around the
ones you will.
I'm not crazy,
I'm what I want to
be within,
when your mind is
more than your own
God blesses us
with his love.

on memory lane,
just walking in an
opposite direction.

the waterways
and slim heat
are a confession,
a resolution to my
mind,

quiet dancers
for my mind's
ears,
sub silent soliloquies
saunter on in
forevermore.

was it basking
in some hot wax
or was it soothing on a
sordid stone
that we never acted?
did we miss eachother
by a minute ?
took times out of our day
to disappear disappointed,
or did we discover it just in time ?

Death is a peace,
love, its treatise.
followed by after-all
each soul to their-there;
to better-off.

falsities end by the wayside
bathing off by bayside
and the truth illuminates on
no ruminating song
letting go of anything
but the light.

its hard being weak.
knowing youll fall into whomevers arms
are open.

once i concern myself less with how another thinks
and more in how i do.
and the ones who want me do.
ill be good.

if i were more selfish
id tell you exactly what you want to hear.

time heals all wound

and when the scars settle,

the imperfections

make beauty

nice days will
remind me
of the ones
past.

in a way,
a nice day
is but a growth
from
your first!

once i stood to gain something
i could only see the fall again.
so i lay for days,
back in the trenches where I
work best.
whittling words,
praying for peace,
integrating integrity,
and daring limits.

when i go,
you'll have no one else to blame

Id like to hang from a tree
like a monkey with a carefree philosphy

But roots lie dead at the tree
and I wonder what I'll be
when death gives its final decree
And we turn over a new leaf
so I'm led to believe.
Because all i see is a painful plea,
but do i believe?
   I guess that's what stops my sleep

even if time had no merit
some large part of me,
would wait for you.

my best friend.
that, i never forgot.
i don't leave anyone behind.

i'll remember the shape of
your face as if
it the palm of my hand

cups of water
over the surface
of your plentiful
pool

didn't you know baby?
i contend to wrestle with angels.

Im driven to the future
which is the past
i wish to make even greater.

nothing makes
me feel better
than writing
new words
in new ways
pretending
they're not
unique in
some way.

i cope
in every letter.
but sometimes
it can be more
a hard drug.
something
detrimental,
less fun.

dont feed
off my words
like they
are your
high.
it's a waste
of your own
talent,
your own
supply.

don't blame yourself,
don't blame anyone.

when you get that close to greatness,
you are prone to failure.

authenticity.
the all-guiding mysterious-
made known-
gravitating force
at the center of stars
and black holes.

the lifeblood and antithesis
of lying,
and the true aspect of appreciation's cry.

it's funny what you begin learning
when betrayal lashes your innocence.

it's hysterical how I advocated
for every man you hated,

your misandristic tendencies.
a third eye blind to your tumultuous ingrained lies.
weaponizing my mind.

a fourth guy in line for another brutal cut that you align with no sight.

I can see the pollen course
through the air like this
valley were a vein.
It would be a shame
to be allergic to the
lifeblood of nature.
If only there were
pedals slowly flowing,
would be beautiful.