My heartbeat drops
-Fitbit flatlines-
Senses overheat,
I plummet and do not resist.

They always said the sky is the limit,
But they never said how to get there.

When the twists of life tried to keep me down,
i ran away.
When they came back for me,
i packed my bags and ran.
The bags slowed me down and yet, i couldn’t leave them behind.

During my escape i planned my journey and met more travelers.
Their bags seemed as heavy as mine, but our grips were adamant to the load.
Eventually i dared to fly.
Flying was easy. Up in the air, where gravity’s pull is weaker
made my bags lighter, and I soar higher.

Did i dare fly too high? Did i forget about the bags?
Oh mama, no one told me to be careful of flying too high.
Now i’m back to running,
running for one more breath of pure air.

Do you ever want to go back to the days in which your biggest concern was if your shower would be the right temperature?

and the traffic in your life is terrible,
drive forth.

When the sleepless nights come,
and whiskey cannot inebriate the feels,
nor Tom Waits lull you home,
and your mind goes dark and deep.

When you find yourself feeling sad
and can't locate the epicenter of life,
when all is gone,
take a minute,
2 minutes,
6+(n-1) when n > 9,
and vent your feelings.

Let the real you out to play
and find meaning in the insomnia.
I too got lost in a maze -
retrace, map, and conquer - not sure where I'm headed
but I can see the sunrise.


                 .

there are so many whats you'll encounter,
and limited whos you'll love.

the wheres are infinite,
while the hows are arbitrary.

but the whys
they are so **** hard to answer

why must i choke on the truth
why must i be like this
why why why?

why are you the way you are?

Art is an extrovert.

She goes out clubbing on Saturday nights,
scotch in hand,
indecisiveness plaguing her mind,
dancing ‘til her feet are numb.

She rings the tune of a
possessed conductor.
White dress, black collar,
I know her face,
but not her name.

From the bar I watch
her obsidian silhouette expand
as her skin becomes rose petals,
and her hips conduct the music.

She looks like a drunken mess,
arms flailing, heels bending,
but to the peculiar mind
she paints
an alluring picture.