It’s the morning after the last heart session
Eyes open but brain still crackling with static and white noise
When I try it again
Hoping to get pen to paper
Before consciousness can recover sufficiently to intervene
And proffer pretty syntax to the poem
Hold the mind blank
And stack the words in rows of green growth
Like garden beds
That only need time and attention to bear fruit
Let truth come from some other place
Than reason or left brain
Or the extensive vocabulary
Meticulously indexed in the cranial cavity
Somewhere near the brain stem
Or maybe in the DNA
As C, T, G, and A
Storing data like binary only twice as complex
The recall mechanism operating in the darkness of our comprehension
Apprehension of its failure threatening to leave the poem unfinished
Unillustrated
Uncalibrated
Un-fact checked
Like that matters somehow
Like the facts are important in art
Like the right brain has no sense of propriety
Just as surely as the heart tells lies in gibberish
A chattering maelstrom of syllables in a cyclonic vacuum
And yet somehow the heart speaks with perfect clarity
Uncluttered rhythm
Timing and flow
So you know there is more going on here than we fully understand
Lend a hand to help decipher the intentions of a part of yourself wayward from the rest of you
Leading to a collapse of the ego
And a blurring of the lines between you and I
Turning discrete data into continuous
On the fly
On the run
Under sun and and moon and sky
Until the day that even death fails to be discrete
Or even an event any more important than a fire
Converting energy from one form to another

I heard a whisper.
a thought like dust
caught the air of my breath
and landed on every heartbeat still beating for something more than themselves.
a rationale.
a stable refuge.
these are the things I imbue.
nocturnal nonsense swirled about
until your gaze caught my thoughts.
I saw your eyes behind mine.
emancipated, delegated, underrated and unillustrated,
how can I better express myself.
I lost myself trying to lose you.
I carried the weight of the world on my shoulders
to your front door step and left it with a key.
Walk a mile in my shoes and still ask me who's the enemy.
I am.
I am my own downfall.
masquerades never suited me
yet I still wore it with agony.
Antagonized from every side,
the lies lie far between you and I.
I succeeded in forgetting something that never happened
and got trapped inside those angel eyes.
remain a nuisance, my misguided matrimony.
gravity awaits,
for we are all destined to fall.