It is becoming increasingly scary, how much a pen knows me over people.

A smile is like an exit
Out of the room,
Where you don't really want to be.

A distant lion begins to roar,
As a silver lining turns blue;
Gazing through stone windows,
Unable to find a door...

Whispers louder than screams,
Red blood turns blue;
Frightened by the fear,
The only beast is you..

A distant lion,
Continues to roar;
Befriended by only a heartbeat,
Naked, lying on the cold floor...

A distant lion,
You no longer hear roar;
Betrayed by your sanity,
As Reluctant tears,
fall to the floor...

Let their scent not
attract devastation;
Fallible stems and petals,
Ego of a garden
With a possession
yearned by eyes
rubbing hands at
their growths spectation.
Let their base clench
only the goodness within
the soil.
Their bodies know
the palm
when time's right.
Let the truth given
to them steer their blooming
like the voice repeatedly
reminding them what not
and what to do
Amen.

Long time,
No me.

Too many secret rooms
Aren't good for your health.

we
what a lovely simple word
what a beautiful surrender
to let that wonder become
what was once you and me

we

what understated beauty
to be found in a single syllable
what a precious sound

singularity shifting

how lucky some people must be

to have a we

I took a book,
And I was taken by the book
I took.