This time, I found myself
wondering...
Wandering the maze of the unwanted.
The meeting place
Of despair, and of worry
What-If's rule the gates
Insecurity a blaze
lights the way
light much like the setting sun
I fumble through the unfamiliar
Behind me,
Each step, Each twist,
Too many,
Another turn is too many
I am caught,
Wonderfully lost
To Her world
from affection
This time I go,
Alone.

In reading this you will know me.
Each word selected to fit my soul.
My pain lies within each line,
the love I feel represents the whole.

Lost in the depths of my own soul.
With no star in the sky as a guide,
Somedays,
I completely understand
some days,
are left so hollow.

A gemini searching for himself,
in a labrynth with no escape.
I want the knowledge of knowing thy self.
Surely everyone reading can relate.

Though dark days are expected, along with pain
the gain, is worth it when it is done.
This message is for those who understand,
be strong and carry on.

Mistake Not Thee
A Lovers
Marraige
Given True

For an advertisers Game
And a Springtime Circle Of Twelve
Blue Flowers Secret Lovers
Forget Me Nots
Voice Annointing Earth

Soft Still Voice of Remembrance
Once Upon A Time
Your Love
Was Everything
No Prize
Between You
Came a Thought
Pure Faith
Given Over
Remember?

No Reason
Just Love


To One who has Faith
All Life shall be Given
To One Who Loves
Eternity IS
Remembered Happiness

All my friends are fictional. Anyone who can come close to understanding me is black ink on paper...or, I suppose, a screen. The words seem to be extracted from my own mind, and in some sense, they are, or at least the meaning I've given to them. I think the author and I would get along, but of course, I'll never know. Provoke the melancholy, poke the sleeping bear.  Look up into the air and wonder "Why?". "Why everything? Why anything? Why do I keep asking why? Why do I waste my time with empty questions?". Some of my friends are sound waves.  I think I would get along with the vocalist, or even, the guitarist. Not the drummer though. Never got along with drummers too well.  I listen, as they speak to me in a foreign, yet, familiar language.  A sort of tounges, a melodic pig-latin. A nearly dying, or, freshly dead language. A corpse comprised of chords.  I think, "They must be just like me. They understand how asinine of an existence us humans have".  But, I'll never really know.  A painting or a picture that I often let my eyes visit is my longest, dearest, friend.  With strokes and lines in colors that surround me and embrace me with their vivid visual prowess as a sort of pet.  A silent friend. A friend whose company alone is enough to warm me.  And I think, "Wow, I wish I could make things like that. I wish I could speak without words and without fear".  And then I meet the artist, or at least, read his or her statement, and realize that the speech intended to be delivered was something else entirely, and usually not achieved without enduring his or her own self-projected labrynth filled with pits of fear and dead-ends. And I realize that I can make things like that, that ultimately. I just did.  By creating the meaning that I thought was their intention, I drew my own maze, all that's missing, is the courage to endure it.  And I think, "Wow, what a lonely sad soul that artist must be.  No one will understand what they are trying to say the first time around.  They will constantly be frustrated with the mundane experience of incessantly repeating themselves.  They will make enemies out of the very things they once loved.  They will isolate themselves from those who may have given them everything they wanted."

Breathe brought in, with it sickness
Cause enough, it can all crumble
two pieces, more, four exponential
Onto the ruined floor of morrows
There they get ground down finer
by the ones that through words like love around
So very, very off are the scenes
Of a life, of first tries, of smoking puddles
Far off now is that guy, that person,
just but now only a reminder of poor choices
And it can and will crumble
cracking and falling away, into voids
much like the need, and want of breathing
sitting so close to the smoke that rises
each breath feeding and igniting
Foolish are the eyes that believe and abuse
salty water, vinegar for the wine we waste
when all of life crumbles around you
and you find the endless, unlit labrynth
fed by bridges burnt down just after your crossing
until no exit, No route, No saviors are found
the sickness comes in shards that turn to puddles
and this then burns to smoke, and ruins

I sat there
and no one knows
too easy to escape the questions
but
is it better?
I can't tell.

but with her,
I can.

Acceptance
is that so hard?
It shouldn't be.

I have come down
from where I used to be,
never to return to that
place

Lost in the labrynth,
where are they?
where am I?

Destined to wander,
I accept,
almost unwillingly.

Dare to dream,
only such a fantasy.

4/12/17

She said she moved across the countrey to
Get away from her sister
They got a divorce and it was
Against her beleifs.
Against God.
I told her firmly
That i empathized
How it must be hard to move across
The world, to pack up everything
Just for your morals
She said she and her husbamd moved in with the ex husband her sister
And that the whole family besides herself
Supported her sister.
I said that must be hard.
Then when she loved me
Knew i understood.
I promptly told her i was polyamorous.
That my lover moved to ireland
To live with her husband
Packed up everything
And how hard that must be
and She did not flinch
I held her as she cried on my shoulder
She in the fifteen moments I saw her
Realized there is a whole world of differences
She can find comfort in when she is alone
She never once knew what I thought of her
Morals
How In my family we have divorce celevrations.
How ending is always a new beginning
How you can love amd still realize that a forever is going to make you miserable
Or never having a baby will **** you
Or being ***** every night is going to torture you
Even if the abuser is your own husband
I worry for her safety.
A woman who doesn't beleive in the word stop.
Doesn't consider leaving
Or letting go
I could never trust someome like that.
I would never be able to see them without feeling regret.
There is no words for the sorrow I place in that body of theirs.
And it is not my place to change it.
But I can tell them how happy i've been
Letting go someone I love, forever.
Not because We are unhappy.
Just because it was time for them to go.
Tell her how I still love them.
How i miss them every day, but it does not depress me.
It enlightens me.
Tell them of all my happy memories
libraty labrynth where she made me look her up with the dewey decimal system
Ice skating and backwards buttwiggles
Every time we stayed up late and I whispered that she existed.
Because even I wasn't convinced.
Now that she's left.
I'm still not.

But I will never forget either of them.

Topsy - Turvy
watch the clowns
going up
or is it down

In this labrynth
made of lines
all sense is lost
of depth and time

Impossible angles
do veer off
magical visions
held aloft

A parchment square
upon the wall
reveals the path
careful, don't fall

A journey to
your minds eye
changing angles
smiles arise

is it in
or is it out
that's the question
there's no doubt

Topsy -Turvy
no one sees
the very same
thing as me

I'm a simple woman
There is no complexity
I sat opposite her and
She turned her back
It took me a while to process that
I wonder if she knows happiness
Her dress was emerald green and ruby red
I drank another glass of wine
Intellect is intimidating
Until you drink that last glass of wine
Then?
You get lost in the hallway
Wondering
Wandering
I sat opposite my nemesis
She gave me what I wanted
truth

......

Love
some say it's the greatest of emotions
some say it's a lie to tell a person
but no matter what you think
or what you say
Love* will always stay
Love doesn't leave you behind
but finds you in the labrynth
Sometimes Love will even let you fall
but eventually catches you
at the bottom of the pit
to prove that Love exists
Love never keeps grudges
but forgives even when you don't deserve forgiveness
Love isn't some cheesy pick-up line
Love is a sign
of hope in a wicked world

but Love isn't perfect
Love will sometimes fail you
and Love will fall
but I
I will accept Love for what it is
I
I will be there for Love in every circumstance
And I
will be Love's Love

You might be wondering,
who is Love
Well,
Love is all of you
All of you whom I've laughed & cried with
You
who helped me get back on my feet
You
who believed in my dreams
that are almost too impossible to reach
And *You
who stood by my side in my darkest night

**Thank You,
for being my Love
and know that I am yours too.

In the midst of all of this dismantling
itself into it's revolting component honesty, I try to remember the way
your arousal changed the hue of the space around you.

Memory or fantasy or dream
or lie or ecstatic state; bottles filled with coloured sand and then sealed up into boxes left by the street.

If only someone could sculpt the dance we do between the moments
of a waking life crystallizing into grotesque simplifications rattling chains in the labrynth we build for loneliness.

I try to chisel some aspect of it into wind and rain.

I try to pick out your breathing
among the howling infinity outside and my edges are reasserted by the glare of life's shadow.

My name is that of any pile of bones ever to have a candal held for it.

My path is undetermined, unfettered from the seething potential beneath all things.

Explode with me.

We can paint the crumbling walls of our illusory disconnection like a drunken Michaelangelo laughing at the absurdity he is a part of.

**** rules, style, message, time, space, words.

**** it all.

Just go mad.

I forfeit you often in tiny moments lingering like age..To a titanic of an opponent I know I will never defeat. You.
You're the mighty unbreakable door, with no handle nor **** to turn, neither knocker or bell to ring. You are the only door that is not a slave to any metal. Not even a cursed object like skeleton keys can force it open and break into your secret thoughts. It opens from one side and one side only. Your side.
I've watched you slip behind your door and get lost inside yourself.. Never taking anyone with you. Slipping through time in a compelling labrynth, hidden somewhere behind those dark intoxicating eyes.  Those eyes that make me often forget what I'm saying midsentence.
The spark to the match of my irrelevant jealousy, driving me to the brink of insanity. Making me restlessly patient for your return from the door and back to reality, or the reality we physically share.
I want to get lost with you, take me through your door. I want to see more than you show, and know all the things you never say. I need your raw unyeilding commentary and this unwanted vail you hide behind lifted: exposing you bare.
I've been stealing bits of you over the years while you were unaware-but it's no longer enough.
I want to finally see all of you at once. Not the glimpses and echos that I have collected and pieced together under your nose for all these years. Like some common stalker..
That version, my version of you, is forever unsatisfying and incomplete. It will never be enough, who you are in my head and who you are when we are together, is only a shadow of the you let me see. I want the version you keep locked up, the one you  never share.You may be content being lost inside yourself alone, but even so, it doesn't have to be that way.
I beg you, stop keeping to yourself. Keep me instead.
Together, we will be the perfect trade.

-Stone Fox

Beyond the exoskeleton of labels and cliches
Resides a room without a door in the fabric of decay
Within the ragged corridors of self-loathing and fear
Where the person that we never want to be is drawing near
With every lie we tell ourselves and every step we fake
With every time we sell ourselves for less than what's at stake
Each time we find our future is the past we left behind
Each time we find a minute's peace has cost us peace of mind
The times the living disease becomes the disase of the living
The times we find that taking becomes easier than giving
When we find that serving self becomes the same as serving time
When we ****** someone's trust and truly cannot see the crime
Each time we find our highs can be the lowest points of all
Each time we're not quite home without our backs against the wall
When smiling and laughter are the maddest times of all
When the calm before the storm becomes the walk before the crawl
The person that we never want to be begins to dwell
In the room without a door in our mental labrynth cell
Dragging ragged fingernails across the coffin walls
Slowly breaking free from deep within the one who falls
The battle thus ensues between what is and what's to be
The tortured and the ******, both demanding to be free
Both manipulating and invading at each turn
Such hell as now both sanity and soul begin to burn
And from the silent corner, watching all without a word
Chaotically and sweetly biding time, there comes a third
Eagerly awaiting as each tears the other down
Clutching for the purchase which will cause the soul to drown
Dominating all the rotting conscious have become
The destroyer, come to permenantly bleed out beyond numb
To the victor go the spoils of the spoiled, weary heart
In this dance of such a red, chaotic schizophrenic art
To honor, shame, or tragedy...where will your last breath lead
It all depends upon which dying fire you choose to feed

You,... flew away
tempted but one day after
to ruin,... less solid ground
crumbling to leave me
then this labrynth
all of its walls, memories
Vinegar and wine, salt and water
rain from cloudless heights
desert vistas, tear drops
forgiveness
what of you and I?
Over, gone, done, forgotten
why can't i?
asked in lonesome reflection
countless times.

Love so beautiful
Could easily be compared to a bouquet of flowers
In all its might and majesty
The colours it shows vibrant and full of life
Proof to how wonderful the world can be despite the obscenities of the human race
Love always prevails,as long as we're within its embrace......

Love.
Damages and torments you
Lures you into false sanctuary
What you've entered now is a labrynth
One with no end
A maze leading you only to despair
You will wilt and wither away
Not a trace of of your presence left for anyone to grieve
You will not be SPAIRED!
Your heart will be left in tatters
Your soul bruised and battered
Because love is all that mattered
Lost and alone
Oh you poor soul...
You counted on love to save you in this scene...
But this is love is it not?

This....is all but clarity
To what you saw through cracked lenses
Is now crystal clear
So now you know that the "love" you held so dear...
Ultimately led to what you now fear.

Love.

Tim
:'(

This sunken vast hole is where once the blood flowed. These lines of black once shown blue, where the life inside once flowed trough.

An empty gaze straight to space, is once where my dreams led, sleep.....take me back to that place. Reaching out to touch, to feel, to seek affection....pushed away and knocked down by receiving rejection.

There is no escaping the darkness, there is no escaping this hell. Yet, in the midst of all this pain, in the fire, horrid ache for death I feel, my wish is you be well.

I roam in a body, one with no soul. I wander in limbo, for this host I dwell is a lifeless innuendo, a facade of what one may portray as blithe.

Deeper and deeper I fall, for shall I rise not. I am impervious to your ways. I have faltered in your gaze, completely lost. Never to be found within the labrynth of your heart.

Rotting are my insides, the damage has been done. I wither into shreds while watching you, waiting for you. My eternity a lonely dark lifeless room where you left me. Your past has kept me as my home. As I lay dying...you finally run realizing the torture you've made me suffer, only it is far too late, for this chamber of hurt could not be undone.

Now it's your turn to burn.

Jenn

Drip. Drip. Drip. The sound of silence engolfs me as I run deeper into my thoughts.

Night falls. The stars rise. The moon glows and I sit still thinking. Thinking of mistakes I made. How can I tell anybody. How will I explain.

I don't sleep anymore. Nightmares controll my dreams. Nightmares are nicer than my thoughts though.

My mind is a deadly labrynth. One wrong turn and it can break your heart. One wrong step and you fall in the endless abyss of fear.

Sadness ocupates my mind. But that is the least of my worries. Its the secrets I hold that scares me. The ones I cannot tell.

The one that will bury me alive.

An apparition floats in the ether
Flirting with uncertainty
Fornicating with insanity
Dreams weaving spiderwebs
missed connections
The cerebral cortex is dead
Neurologic misconduct
The product of masterbatory philosophic ego
Circling the drain
Dark matter ***** its pistol
Currently the universal harmony is obsolete
Industrial jinx the Sphinx winks
Esoteric barbaric monkey race
Acrid acrobatics through semantics
Labrynth of foul play
The mind can't stray away
Meditate on the outer banks
Collective conscious cremating brain waves
the last microwave TV dinner
Enthroned on the last iceberg

"Happiness can only be a stones throw away", said an old man to his old dog one day.  The dog looked at his friend so skinny and weak.  He ran off in direction; "It is food I shall seek! " The old man sat by a fire, lonely for his friend. Yet surely was confident he would return by days end. The night got cold, the sky got dark, no sight of his dog. Not even a bark. On his last legs, with shortness of breath. The dog was now certain he was close to death. Turning around from where he came, the dogs head drooped with sadness and shame. For he knew in his head it was surely the end. He would never get back and find his friend. The roads seemed to twist like a labrynth from hell. The dogs legs gave out, on the dirt he fell. Conscious but torn, he rose from the ground. Something in his heart told him to follow the road down. A figure in the distance.. It kept up his pace and as he got closer his heart began to race. Now feet away he saw it was his friend... The old man by the fire with his back in a bend. The dog  looked up and slowly lowered his head. The man got on his knees and in his dogs ear he said; "For me to be happy is to have you with me.. I enjoy your silence and company. " The dog looked up with eyes full of tears, for he knew they would be together for the rest of their years..
Moral of the story: "Realize what you have and cherish it from the start. When you come to a road.. Follow your heart

They stain the walls.
Three black spots relentless
against the white backdrop.
I follow just one. Another dwells,
lingers - as its allie drops from view.
It weaves an invisible labrynth: purposeless.

At face, a simple enough fix.
A swift, unflinching hand
to brush away the blemish.
Yet, legs abstain. Want no part
of what is sure to come.
After all, They might well crawl away.

A-Maze-in Mental Mind State
Bending Time and Space
Lost in Awe, Confusion Blossomed
Labrynth of Creation

Battles Won
A Face so Clear
Disturbed in Form and Nation
Clues are Left in Cryptic Circles
Cropped and Saved in Strangest Places

Fourth and Fifth Dimensions
Elements of Source and Mass
Echoes of Surprise in Shadows
Guided Stars and Saddened Lights
Purely Know, Accomplish Nothing
Souls have Grown but Always Something
Never Reach the End of Life
Fever Tells our Days of Nights

Inner Loath of No Beggining
Never Up Nor Down is Right
Follow or Be Followed
Flash Arrays Our Blinded Peace
Building Up and Out in Ways
To Deconstruct what Lies Beneath

Man on Earth or In the Stars
Moons of Saturn, Life On Mars

Embryonic Particles
Biofuels and Fossilites
Death is Understated
Live and Breath to Force Creation
Past is Temptress, Bound in Might
To Be the Howl, an Owls Delight
Pride and Envy, Love or Hate
Screams in All Our Plight

Flightless, Left Defenseless
Priceless Wonders Dug in Trenches
Leave Us All Forgotten, Never Was nor Be Again
Thirst to Ease the Quenchless
Remnants of Remains

Purpose Built to Lay Withstanding
Spans of Ticks and Tocks of Clocks
Plaguing Life for Knowing This
It Is, And It...Is Not

Corrupted minds.
Clouded judgement.
What happened to the true things and feelings?
It’s like smog, polluting everything it comes into contact with.
What happened to purity?
Everything is meaningless.
Counterproductive.
My tainted being is no better.
But my mind wants to find a way out.
But I can’t fathom it.
At the point of being crippled or tied down and locked in a cage.
What’s the point of this labrynth of a maze?
There’s no point to these mindless games, or all of life’s charades.
What are they covering up?
Does it matter?
I’m always the odd one out.
So why the **** am I still here?
It’s clear that no one wants me here.
So as I hope they suffer for the torture they put me through, I’ll hope the ones who never got involved live the lives they deserve.
Because everything they do feels like a curse.

The fuckery never seems to end.
I can’t fix myself because none of the versions of me are on the mend.
So is this part of their master plan?
Everything is always my fault but this should never happen to anyone again.
What’s left in time? I’m in need of a way out.
Everything’s deceiving and there’s way too much doubt.
So as I hope to find a way out of this labrynth of a maze,
I’ll hope they stop hiding behind versions of me because I’m going insane.