I have yet to know a self I can call my own,
wandering through these bodies
the way one would try on clothes
but far deeper
than this analogy could ever dig,
I live with these identities.

I fall for them
the way lovers do in autumn,
keen that the coming winter
will leave me yearning
for the comfort of another,
but no sooner do the bells of spring
begin to ring in summer air
does the necessity of this comfort fade.
The temptation of sweeter fruit
hangs above me in the orchard shade
and an affluenza of potential
almost coerces me to stay.

Though no self have ever felt my own
I know within my heart, within my blood
and in my bones, more than anything
I am compelled to grow
towards entropy and complexity,
ascending, never settling at any plateau
a silverback drumming his barrel chest
and roaring into the void of the valley below
“What is next for me!”

and the answer is silence
(I should have known)

Keep the lights on when you sleep
and avoid submerging too deep
into your dreams, for a string
of shouting matches and glinting knives
tumble down in the dark
of the moon, rapping on the door like
knuckles rolling
over and over with a pause in between for
bated breath, wanting to swing
like a pendulum wherever
it pleases.  Keep the lights on, and
you can at least unlock the door.

Where would we go
if tomorrow never came
would the flowers still grow
if we never felt the rain
would you still love me
even after the pain
and miss me when I'm gone

Would fire still burn a flame
and would you call out my name
in dreams that only fade
would you still love me
when our eyes couldn't see
the memories we made

Would yesterday still remain
if I was to hold you again
and your heart I could mend
would you look at me
if I gave you more to see
would you still love me
if we were able to be
what we were in a song
Spiritwind ©2016

There seems to be a problem,
A problem with humanity,
As it seems we have no sanity left,
Because surviving committed that theft long ago.

People have forgotten how to feel,
We have lost sight of what is real,
And no one is allowed an opinion anymore without repercussions.

It's as though we're in a drought of genuine people,
Humans who feel and talk about what is real.
**** your ideals,
I don't care "What appeals?"
All I care about is surviving,
Surviving on this rotting hell of a planet.