Tag Archives: questions

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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 ❤

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Lonely Train

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I find the days too short and they grow weary with anticipation
With the night following like an abandoned child crying out for attention
lost and confused
The lonely train whispers its Hello and I wonder if you can hear it too
a thread of a connected thought
from one mind to the next
Ever persistent, time passes us by
leaving the echoes of the train’s Goodnight lingering throughout the city
The ghostly remembrance only makes the silence seem louder
The tha-thump thumping beating passionately in my ears
Reminding me that certain moments can feel longer than wanted or yearned
My lack of patience blatantly stating that we meet with each other again and again
because neither one of us wants to be alone
Familiar patterns of morning, day, and night building up an assortment of attachments and questions
Maybe both of us wondering who would dare to say Goodbye first

I am grateful for connections ❤

Closed Eyes

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The golden webs glow in the darkness

Of shut eyes focusing on seeing

Knuckles grind into skin and the lights get brighter

Breathing steadies

Lines and shapes moving, pulsating

Intertwining into an array of mystery

What is there to see behind closed eyes?

I am grateful for tea ❤

Nooks and Crannies

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Where are you?
I see the shadows
feel the movements
But only from the corner
of my eyes
As if it’s some kind of joke
to confuse the blind-ed
Where were you?
When the clouds drew near
blocked out the sun
when I forgot to run
Feet locked into the ground
as if they had sprouted roots
all by themselves
Letting the dirt swallow my
body whole
Even the dark
Nooks and Crannies
that I had forgotten about;
How do we begin to
lose ourselves
in the very things that
Once helped
before?

I am grateful for sleep. ❤

Ink Blotches

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A festival for summer to gather the thinkers

Collecting names and creating futures one by one

Marching them in like cattle to be herded and sorted

Ironically matching identity of self into what self stands against

Creating an image, creating a challenge, creating a burden?

As a child I wander; not searching, nor pretending

Was this to witness a gift or a plot of destruction?

Another thought added to the list of doubt and pessimistic questions;

But I think everyone has some of those

Whether locked up in the moldy storage trunk, long forgotten in the attic

Or, burning in eyes until question mark ink blotches stain face black

I am grateful for these opportunities of learning. ❤