I kissed myself on the forehead
and told myself that I've had better days
that everything used to be...  ok...

I wish I could go back!
I would change so many things,
I would learn to control myself better...
I would not listen to those who controlled me

all things considered
it seems I've grown bitter
and these words they haunt me
all things considered
it seems I've grown iller
and my killer he taunts me

the writer inside,
"negligible pride
despite the crazy ride
on a track that cut off "-me

I wish I could go back
I would explain myself better
I would not resort to street medication quackery
I would read up on hereditary

I would brush my first set of teeth more
I would learn to sleep
I would prepare preemptively before a storm
I would promise, I would not keep
I would avoid ever taking the high road
I would avoid the very notion of forlorn

I would stick to what I knew
yet despite the way I grew
I became what i had hoped
achievement was my rue
and now I am torn

I would lie.
I would lie to everyone.

because they all did it to me
and it hurt, but they couldn't see
that no one cared
not even me
and herein lies
insult to injury
the ones that love you most
are the ones who hurt severely

and so
I kissed myself on the forehead
and then I saw clearly.

My metaphor is better for the bin
My simile just says silly me
A joke, lost in translation
Wood, hidden by the trees

So I talk to the wind
Panning truths which dry to sand,
                     falling ashen.

Look to the cloud's lining
                     filing away like smoke

Out of time, out of sorts
Caught in a vortex
Time ganging up
Clogging, fogging

Come back mojo

Cupid puts his arrows
     like his targets
       in a quiver

Drawn together
heat rises as we draw nearer
crackling fire fills the spaces between us
Skin ignites as it touches
engulfing my all in molten voluptuousness
Hair bursts
eyes melt
Consumed by fatal passion
we burn
Consummated annihilation
We burn
Incendiary desire
We burn
Drawn together in the depths of the nothing
Yearning, and burning until
nothing is left
but the ashes of our love
We have burned into a heap
becoming one
for a moment
Until the wind scatters our remains
Separating us forever
only ever to meet again
as flitting particles
colliding in the night.

Long is the road
narrow is the belief
all wonders must cease when
cessation is the culmination of the future.
Born of the luckless
truculent madmen slash their hands at the nothing
The road is long
the belief is narrow
All eyes can comprehend the ether
inner lids conceal the purity in our nightmares.
Sahasrara opens in a bloom of ten thousand petals
Long is the belief
the road is narrow
The ceiling of reality cracks
and finally it is revealed
All myths are real...
All truths are imaginary.