I drift into consciousness one hour before noon
Worthless sack of ****
Scrolling for anything to make me happy
Nothing will today.

One hour later, I take a thirty minute shower
Pathetic and alone
I made coffee for after my shower so it wasn't too hot
There is that at least

I start thinking about you endlessly, longing for us again
What we could have been
And even after you came back to me with an ever beating heart
I still told you no.

It is now the afternoon, I am now getting my first cavity filled
They did not numb me
It was too small for that, I was told it was probably just genetic
There is that at least

I now wait for to go hang out with friends
Something needed now
Because as I wait, you infiltrate my mind, the regret of letting you go
I can't help but cry.

After hours upon hours of weeping, I arrive at my friend's house
Nothing too special
We just sit around and eat and goof around
There is that at least

And while I continue to be with friends
You infest my thoughts
Only instead of feeling loneliness and regret
I simply feel sad.

It may not be much
But it is better than before
So there is that at least

I am the earth.
I seek the sea,
occupy the ocean,
wish for the water.
While you,
yearn for the earth,
lead the lands,
savour the soil.
I am the earth
And I wish for you.
I wish for you.
I’ve been wishing for you...

To leave this small town, I would dare,
If courage found its way to me.
A wasteland's blue and brown despair,
Cogs turning, struts of industry.

For years I toiled, for years I ran,
The pace relentless, never slowed.
Yet once again, here I began,
Back at the end of the road.

Even in mystical India, helicopter pilots MUST reject spherical trigonometry to navigate our Earth as she is: a motionless plane, and not as a ball planet rotating & wobbling @ 1,039-miles-per-hour at her equatorial mid-line. I'm touched (in a mentally-unretarded way).

no man is an island, but all that i see is salt water for miles. its taste as bitter as a slap; i must consume it. get drunk off of it. get lost off of it. die off of it.
there are dangerous things i have loved before; myself with knives pointed backwards towards the fleshy skin of my chest. there are dangerous things i can sing lullabies to bed. dangerous things with beautiful faces and symmetrical smiles, bodies buried underneath acres of rolling fields. for an instant, the harm solely seems to be self-inflicted, a wound the size of an almond, just big enough to recall. but i have swam entire ocean lengths to be someone you’d love, someone you’d capsize a ship for, someone you’d sing lullabies to. i know now i am a hazard, built to strand you until the uncertainty devours you too. the only feeling i’ve ever truly known is to be devoured, by everything / almost as if everything i may love is meant to destroy me, leave me stranded, dehydrated and muffled. sometimes i feel as if it’s just a part of being human—something so human; so human that i am not immune.

We are interested in beautiful things
beautiful things, but
they are growing up

without it and
show beauty

Beauty of all beings
include essence of beauty
that is integrity.