Grass turns rest round
love set world self need.
Vomitorium forget word
hand thought waste powdered
leaves minds present
wills leak simply
say wan turn time neon
Dreams moments' control
Idea, ascent;
graze cliches
Adversity based lump myth solid
disguised cancer cages.
Repetition, test, twist, strip, sew.
Entered shortly.
Promptly moral,
border seeing stirred tale wanton.
Spake grace,
“Eat, scar message
loses heed, seemingly!”
Serpent gravity,
tame killed bearing.
Engine resound telekinetic
499 merry-go-round repeatered,
answer's 'cos empathy's idealogical.
We've sapphire muppets
when'll sighn heat-ray -
Truithfilled.
Beltsched.
Amyth.

Ord's sighns,
discotheques placticity teaste;
firstless plasticity.
Algorithms gruesome
argue opaque feeding.
Cheated clips lame distraction,
beings tease statement,
cogs cote photosynthesis.
Evasion necessarily replenish
ebbs divided.
Tamed, ensues coils ajar
freed shed attention.
Mountain lined sail, future redeemed.
Talk.
Seen heart grind, operate wings.
Tail door using shared stop,
kept heard miss.
Music start:
sky winds lust shall gave bit kiss.
Feel like know just way,
live left fall
sees mind truth.
Wrong room.
Disdain.
Eye life face writhing coat,
drinks rhythms
fat appeared blade.
Died state half answers
broke wheels simplicity.
Bliss.
Solution deeply faced, fades perfection,
rises failed.
Necessary lines selling,
read,
asked.
Catalyst train turned lead memory,
lights feeling book grave.
Algae sent burns bear,
dove follow led.
Field filled
astray comfort.

The basement of my mind.

   Cluttered with **** storms and broken promises,
          Withered alongside reminiscent daydreams of passed past nightmares.

I stare...
   Into the internal dwellings of my deepest catacomb.

          Unable to process what resides in my literal unconscious dungeon.
   It's everything i've attempted to hide.

To die.
   To let dwindle between cobwebs and dust bunnies.

My breath falls short.

   Sifting through the residue of forgotten treasures and material shackles.
          They bond me.
Surround me.
   Overwhelm me...
          The unresolved burdens have taken residency within my hindered chakras.

My chest  is heavy.
   The weight distribution of disappointment is sharper than expected.

It eats away at me.
   An elusive daily ritual.

Tucked away it remains far from common thought patterns.

Waves of emotion.
   The tides roll in.
          Upon their migration my muddled secrets and hidden betrayals are uncovered.
               Discovered.

The look in your eyes when they fall upon my frailty.

My internal stack of unfiltered, unregistered, and unassured disheveled boxes.
   Full of disheveled useless things.
          Covered in a thick layer of problems i'm incapable of handling alone.

Alone.
   It sits unaltered and ever growing.

The piles.
    The filth.
          The remnants of what should have been happiness.

It all falls into misplaced sediments.

I'm a mess.
It's showing.
I'm naked.

    This hell.
This murky chamber of unwanted mementos from failed attempts and lost friendships
          This dreadful, endless room.

Oh, to live in a home without a storm shelter.
    Without room to store unnecessary baggage and all the unclaimed items in my mind.

To find solace in meager living.
   All this weight fitting into a backpack.

To minimize my insanity into a carry on.

   To leave.
To go.
    To be light enough to feel the light.

To escape this cellar.
     To live.

To release my self from my own idealogical prison.
    To penetrate the bars of fear.
          To dig myself out from all the things I never want to speak of.

To be free.
     Ahhh, to be free.

To breathe fresh air over molded dust clouds and stale particles.
     To touch without needing to rinse my soul clean.

To re-stack, rotate, and Tetris these piles of insecurities.

To break habits
           that i've reinterpreted from childhood addictions and failed father figures.

To be better than what i've become.

To set fire to this sham of a lifestyle.
     To be reborn in the ashes of this outgrown armor.

To let go.

To make you proud.
     To find pride in myself.

To not be embarrassed by my place settings and mismatched knick knacks.

To allow souls into my temple without them stumbling into my isolated lunacy.

To welcome love.
        To love.
    To love even the darkest crevasses of my being...

I need to renew my license to live.
     Overdue and out of line,
           My past self has expired.

One step at a time, breathe.
    One box at a time, breathe.
       One thought at a time, inhale.
    One lust at a time, exhale.

Inhale.
    Exhale.
Breathe.
        Repeat.

Awaken.
      Accept.
  Grow.
          Repeat.

if i thought there would be enough sunsets

peachy pink baths and twilight friction

then maybe i wouldn’t be frozen now.

if that orangey milk could navigate the twisted time belt

and swallow me in the here and now

maybe it would melt me, maybe it would warm me

maybe i would laugh and see the wonders

of the cosmic radiance.

sunsets, though, are not enough

and hope—

it is an idealogical phantom, as love or fear,

it’s as real as you need—as real as you believe

until you run your fingers through it

and all that’s there

is mist.

Why is it so hard for us to accept when we're wrong?
Brain chemistry, naturally;
When the mind feels its ideology is under attack
the body floods the brain with adrenergic nuerochems
as if it were literally, physically under attack.
This can lead to a denial of the facts
as the fighting animal resists the human's
rational reasoning out of a fear for
the survival of its belief system.
It treats the concept of change
as if equatable to death.
As such, humans become
the embodiment of
their ideas'
natural selection
and idealogical evolution.

the first time: my idealogical house collapsed and
i stepped outside of my consciousness, and i wept as
the tectonic plates under me shifted,
destroying the comfort of my taken-for-granted worldview.
it took me months to tell people
--my family didn't know for months--
some friends still don't
i wonder how many still pray that i will come back to "the faith"
that they say i don't have enough of
because of course its that simple
they didn't feel their foundation collapse as i did
they didn't feel the visceral and inexplainable awareness
that unapologetically obliterated everything i thought i knew
they didn't peer into the endless dark space that was revealed under my foundation
i hold nothing against anyone
i have walked in their shoes and prayed their prayers
i know what its like
i know they mean only the very best for me
and i am thankful for that, truly
so i hold nothing against anyone

The second time was more drawn out and painful.
i delved deeper into the cavernous abyss
that i had stepped to the edge of and peered into last time--
this time i jumped in
and i fell for so helplessly long
--my body was lost in time and space--
before i remembered i had a parachute.
my brother's shoulder and a glass of wine
the perfect parachute to slow my fall
and help me find my feet underneath me.
this time i had questions,
so many questions about what it means to be human
and to be a human in this cavernous abyss

The third time was alone again
sobbing shaking and scribbling words in a journal, i want to
understand what this is.
another fissure opened up beneath my feet and i fall
--still deeper into the earths core --
and as i write i realize
that its not the earth's core at all,
but my own

its my own consciousness i have plunged into
all these times
the dimensions that expand so endlessly
behind my eyes
beckon me into them
and i have
willingly let them lead me deeper into myself

however disrupting and disorienting it is
i know myself better
because i am plunging the depths of my being
an i am more me than i have ever been
and it feels right and it feels true

Got some hope today.
It felt like a tingle.
In my insides somewhere.
This was familiar.
I was reminded that the world
In which I was born,
Was just as ****** as now.

Somehow, we're muscling on.

Nucleur threats,
Idealogical jets,
With invasions, wars and debts.
I kept abreast of the U.S.S.R.
Covered heads beneath school desks,
Bent over likeVesuvians.
Korea, Viet Nam,
And on and on;
Granada, not Canada,
Look what happened in Iran.
Did you see them hang Sadam?
I can still hear the alarms.

We still keep muscling on.

Write like a human and they'll understand
My heart is broken
Make it metaphorical, symbolistic, idealogical
Like a coocoo clock in the basement
Yes, good, not too basic, specific and imaginative
Underwear covering my face, my eyes where legs should be
No, you're off track, they don't understand
But it's the absurdity of it all
Yes but that's not poetry alone
Why can't it be, I want the words to be art
They are, even untethered