Insert Title V

I can’t write for fear of a broken tongue, burning as a

Spiraling monster spilling out confused thoughts;

Ideas traveling from top of head to roof of mouth

 

Why speak when the noise is heavy, serving only as a

Constant reminder of fragile ears hearing rumors;

Weighted down truth from what is and what isn’t

 

Maybe blinded eyes see more than what we perceive of them

—————————————————

Where do you house your hate?

To be pulled out when needed

To lose mouth for virtue of wit

Or, what you choose to believe as such…

———————————————–

I slipped on the edge and fell

Down into the hole of hell

No one dares to look into the well

Claiming innocents of ourselves

—————————————————

To read is to acknowledge The Others, controlled as

Writers in waiting to avoid the contact with oily flesh;

Skin’s difference of one person vs the next

—————————————————-

Hate

I feel it beat

Break, burn, bleed

The heart is weak

 

Greed

It’s not me

I am healthy

How disgusting

 

Anger

Or is it despair?

I wander aimlessly

Deciphering the difference

 

Hope

Always constant

Perhaps a bit cynical

But it’s there

That’s It

There is a shifting of air
Breathing in flavors sweeter on tongue than the sour aftertaste of yesterday
An enveloping heaviness weighs down any reason to move
A comfortable cocoon for this state of mind
Where the truest thinking of thoughts occurs
Getting lost in moments of fleeting deafness
And that’s it.

I am grateful the changing of the seasons ❤

insert title III

Memories and Reflections

12-12-13

Standing on the hill with a random breeze catching on
His strawberry hair ruffled and soft to the touch;
Succumbing to the force within the currents of the wind

The sun and the moon endure their usual aversion of each other
As they sit on their thrones to enjoy the splendor below;
Loving the thoughtless creatures of mortal limitations

Of this one in particular pretending magnificence

(As a peaceful representation of living in perfect harmony
and fighting the fear of indifference
while promoting beauty in the uncertainty,
or at least the everyday moments that the
World can be too busy to notice)

As the ordinary miracles catches his attention;
A man of notice and the gifts of perception

Breathing in the reality tasted by the events determined
From the recordings of the subjects in question;
Their memories and reflections of them

She’s Not Me
7-7-15

I heard all of the rumors and

The messages that she sent

I thought maybe I was her but

She showed me that we’re different

Her wounds bound her together and

Although they seemed similar

I knew that I was only myself, that

She was not me but someone else

Another drifter saying the same things

Thinking the same thoughts day to day

Except she claims to see more

As if she knows the future

Or maybe bits and pieces of our

Memories shaped together

Dagger
7-8-15

I’ve got the fire burning in my belly

My heart is pumping strong

There’s a few words I’ve been thinking

That lay balanced on my tongue

I thought you were my brother

I called you my best friend

But at the first chance you got

You shoved a dagger into my back
Supposed Friends

7-8-15

Calling all supposed friends!

Oh where Oh where have y’all been?

I’ve found myself among the wolves

Their howls keep calling me home under the moon

Have I died and been gifted a life reborn?

I woke up soaking wet and standing alone

Dripping droplets of their bitter scorn

Leaving puddles of poison on the floor

The grass is always greener in this war

Battles of greed to keep us wanting more

You can claim all of the fields of clover

A fake reign won’t live on forever

I am grateful for lost thoughts ❤

A Familiar Name, A Familiar Face

Someone is talking in the distance

Indistinguishable words that hum into ears

The stars shine brilliantly between the black waves

Churning thoughts and emotions overhead

Air clings to the body like scaling skin

Pieces of flaky layers of the World around

A virus killing softly within the wind

Tempting the breath of those chosen 

Figures dance by in all of their fancy

Pretty faces with open mouths smiling wide

Boys and girls falling victims to the Romantics

Inventing lives upon hurtful stories and lies

Would you recognize my face if you saw me?

Would you guess what I could be thinking?

These are the questions that I dream about

The answers we seek often never surprises

Energy breaks free into me then through

A solid wall of heavy empty space

Another piece of the imaginary puzzle

A familiar name, a familiar face

I am grateful for everyday ❤



Unrecognizable me

Breathing in the mental hunger tasted
By ordinary thoughts created

Memories of what we question

Of what is real and what is a reflection

Or the mental mind stamp of time and place

The pictures drawn to dream

Each moment to catch your attention

Bracing for the next life lesson

Simple happiness simply wasted

The imagination is hated

Painting on a believable face

Unrecognizable me

I am grateful for mirrors ❤

Blue chair

The floors are white
annoyingly so
Shining the reflection
of light
Into my eyes

The chair is blue
Rusted with age
Probably picked up
on the side of the road
Or given away

Soles of shoe
connect to the
Slippery surface
mirroring the ceiling
Disbelieving

Sitting down upon
seat in middle of room
With the glittery floor
and single object of
Furniture

Blue chair scuffs white
floor and rings out an
Echoing scream of
metal scraping tile until
Silence

I am grateful for silence ❤

one

I hope everyone has a happy end of the year! Below is a poem written by an amazing person/friend ❤

one day, one time, one year
i hath found the girl it is clear
her hair burns like flames of night
her eyes pierce like an eagle's sight

one touch, one laugh, one kiss
i hath remembered a girl i know I will miss
her skin so soft her warmth so true
one is only one until there is two

two hearts, two souls, two bodies
singing in the moonlight
burning, hurting, loving, dying, living
harmonies cut through the fog like a knife
only to bring light , after darkness always comes light
after pain always comes pleasure
after one always comes two

Room #13

I vanished from this plane of reality and
found myself lost and delirious
Shutting eyes, to block out the distorted shapes with their blindingly confusing colors and patterns
My head slowly tilting to the left, either from the lack of strength or from trying to keep up with line of sight
My temples pounding, disconnecting from the rigidity of skin
Stretching out wide in fleshy cones of self, as far out as both arms’ reach
Before turning inward and sucking into touch together through brain

Spinning, spiinnning, noises, voices, worried feelings; paralyzed with only one concern or thought
Breathe….breathe….Breathe….
Spinning, spiinnning, movement, shouting, anxious feelings; paralyzed with only one concern or thought
Breathe….breathe….Breathe….breathe

I’m unsure of how many minutes were passed during my mental chant
My face pressed into the carpet, body heavy; cannot move, don’t dare to think, try to breathe, Breathe! Breathe!

My last abled act of motion, using thumb to pry mouth open;
hoping that the wider inhalation of air would suffocate the demons
facing me as I lay dying
“Please, I want to live”

My heartfelt plea meant to be shouted but only resulting in the salty tears mixing in with my body’s sweat

Even through the sickness of mind and of body, I realized my formal introduction to the Angel of Death
It was now or, it would just be at some other point in time, later
Death was curious as to who I was, who I am
He came into me and stole every hidden treasure and stone, even those buried beneath the memories I don’t try as hard to forget and also the ones that I haven’t even witnessed yet
I willed myself to move, to raise up, to escape, to do anything but
My body didn’t exist, the battle of my life raged within my head
Death demanding the best of myself at my most weakest state of mind;
My thoughts twisting into mixed up words and phrases, not making sense; my body’s determination for survival, shutting down all general processing abilities
And any hope to persuade Death

Death’s first impression must have convinced of his want for another crossed-out name;
the ambulance told to pull over
Death claiming
My heart stopping
Body shutting down
Death calculating
Fever dreams enveloped my time of awareness
Carnival scenes with raging blue sirens singing out the whirling voices of songs that I’ve sung on my own

Ambulance moving, consciousness blurred between fairytales and reality
The blood pumping, flowing
Death loosening his grips
My ever stubborn heart refusing to quit
I found myself lost within a World of shadows and hooded figures dressed in black
There was no pain except the unanswered questions of impatient confusions, floating within the Universe;
a space of quiet bliss with Death as my companion and my only friend

Motion, lights, pain, color, Pain!
LOUD NOISESSSES
stomach churning from my overconfident eyes that are crossing from the force of attempting to keep them open
Suffocating smells, cloth robe
White stickers attaching me to
the wires wrapped through my hair, under my back, around my legs, clipped to my fingers, shoved into my nose, taped to my chest, stuck into my arms

The beep Beep beep Beep beep Beep
waking me up in Hospital Room #13

I am grateful for battles won (September 15, 2014) ❤

*insert title*

Sunrise, Sunset
When I closed my eyes, I wasn’t alive
I wasn’t a body, a thing
Only, just the fluttering pieces of fractal light
twinkling between the dark and the light
During sunrise and sunset

….Random statements to stimulate thought, create force of habit to ignore the bullshit and to feel silent for a moment, sometimes I want to be….

The Married Woman
To be with her was more than anything he had ever wanted
He could give her his heart but he could never have her;
in the physically, mentally, and soulfully awarded expectations that some experience
So he gave up.

Holiday
A body bounded to nothing
Perhaps, having to abandon ship
to feel the tidal pull while
swimming in the ocean
Just another perfect holiday
of sandy beaches and palm trees

Shoes
You try on girls like a new pair of shoes
Feet shoved all of the way in, stomping out all of the inconsistencies that cramp your style.

Escalator
If the mind can emulate the body’s
progressional steps up an escalator staircase
Then we know that one can
decide to not go up, but it will
take you there anyway.
Although, if you choose to walk down, it
may take you longer but at least
it was a direction of will.

I am grateful for random moments ❤

Soaking Senses

11/11/14

There’s always a slowing down of time when the Universe plays its hand
Vision blurs into a drunken lapse of connection
As the last seconds of every whispering thought
float in and out
From those who pass by; gnat-like noises to buzz into the mind
Their penetrating musings muffled by the compilation of instruments composing stereo emotions and feelings
In my left ear and my right ear jointly, and separately, as I
investigate the audio stimulation (versus the intruding glances that I turn my eyes against)

Chance hollers out, seemingly always unexpected, and
Awareness is interrupted by my flustered responses;
heart racing to catch up to the unpredictability of the moment,
pupils enlarge as I squint from the commitment of answering the nagging mouth of a limitless curiosity
I’ve never retained an imagination capable of ignoring even the most unwelcomed sides of all of the angles of questioning,
for too long

Now, focusing in on the details of the shape
A picture that’s ironically freeze-framed into my view
There are no “Hi, how are you?” or, “My name is…” awkward dronings
There is only the inconsistency of time when two consciousnesses collide into one
A few seconds of riding the tidal wave to shore within the ocean of reality
Soaking senses with the intensity of the change in the air
and how it feels

Everything stops and
we stare

Calling for the willpower of concentration, while maintaining gratitude for the fortune of this gift of an intangible absurdity
Meanwhile,
Memorizing the particulars to mentally store the answers to the questions not quite thought up yet
The discovery of another or, at least something like it
Until time speeds up with the blinding state of determination
Its eyes glazed over as it greedily attempts to account for its precious lost minutes

Such a finger of fate trying to erase any trace of remembrance of the two people who stepped outside of time;
confused into accepting the responsibility of understanding that we’re not alone…

…even if we become lost and forgotten after the weight of acknowledgement disappears into the normalcy of the continuation into the
seconds to minutes to hours to days to weeks to months to years

I am grateful for the good times ❤