If I were to slip and fall
Relinquishing the saddle
Once and for all
A clear sign of a lost battle
Would they lie just a little
Pretending it's a riddle?
Would I be Jeremy still
Or just the latest ashes on a relatives mantle
Unable to get a grip on a life with no handle
Forced into being a monkey in the middle
Avoiding the ferry man becomes a new struggle
Will I hear a verdict from a god or a devil?
Or choose for 'em, trying to make it all simple
Thanks too the highway install
And despite all the people
It's far quicker to stroll into hell
And the toll is only one soul

©2024

Does a poem write itself?
Do they exist before created?
In essence, existing all around us
Absorbed into the psyche
Processed through the brain
Sent to a hand
Finished through the tip of a pen
Too then again
Be consumed by another human person
Producing a new translation
A different interpretation
But there's limits to randomization
Will we ever get to the point where every thought has been expressed?
Every possible sentence arrangement has been recorded and sent to the press?
Is there still the possibility that an original thought can be had?
It's a silly concept but maybe
One day writers block will be victorious
There's only so many different ways that these words can be organized into
Though, I can't imagine what that'll look like
When every thought has been thought through
When nothing's new
Will it still continue?

©2024

I'll be better here sometime right before never,
I swear
Not trying to be clever
I'm being sincere
Just can't assign a specific timeline to recover
I've tried it,
Found it only helped set up the next failure
The one that's already lurking around each and every corner
I stand defiant, against my own self preservation order,
Almost daring it to leap from the darkness a couple corners sooner
I'm not trying to be negative either
Life is an iffy endeavor
But I don't not get it,
I can see it from the view of the average observer
It's gotta look like a recipe for disaster
But it's better than what I see in the mirror
Something I won't need a memory to remember
Branding me with this, scared flesh on each wrist,
A gut wrenching reminder
The kind that can only linger forever
Stalking me from the edge of what I'll be able to remember
But it'll get better...
...they swear

©2024