I cannot control anything
I am not even an entity
I is the scratch that cannot be buffed
I separates me into an identity
I belies the truth I am denied
For I, is a story written before my own eyes
As I sit behind them, trying to scream instruction
Words that have already been spoken
Prisoner to the illusion that cannot be broken
Holding the gate closed,
Praying to be set free
Afraid to let go.
Possessions cost a penny
But emotions are free
Something for nothing
Bursting from inside of me
At least that’s how it was supposed to be
It is and it isn’t
Such a vicious virtue
Purring so gently
Schrödinger’s Catch-22…
Saying hold me—
but don’t tempt me. 🐈⬛
What is it about this dusk that feels so final?
Another night without answers
In the dark
Feeling cold
Ears burned
Never learned
I’ve yet to get a handle on my self
What hope is there of grasping you?
Sitting there,
Greater than the sum of all my senses
A manifestation,
Born of perception
A version of truth?
Or a manifest deception?
A mirage
A visage
Whatever you may be
Just, continue to be
Do my eyes deceive?
Do I just want to believe?
Honestly,
Irrelevant to me
So I beg you please—
Just, continue to be.
I wonder when the day will come,
The day when I will be that weathered old man
Standing and staring at the traffic
Almost as if to say,
This is enough for me
I’mma stand here and watch the rest of you mugs run
You’ll all stop eventually
But fresh ones will keep coming
Keep on running
Pretending we have somewhere to be
As though the circles we run will set us free
No thanks youngun, this is far enough for me
Peace and love ✌🏽
The heat, pulsing through my veins
Cannot be found in my tears
The joy, dancing in my laughter
Pirouetting in-between breaths
Its a spinning top,
Chasing it’s own reflection
Bouncing off the bristling breeze
That cannot be toppled into silence.
A strange addictive quality—
The draw of yearning and desire
As though I’m playing hide and seek,
Yet deep down, I don’t want to find you
For the pain and pleasure is the pursuit
The resistance, the obstacles—
Each step a stumble toward a home,
Though I fear what I find will never be enough.
Merely an inn, a halfway place,
It will be the spark alone—
An ember fanned by my own breath
Its flicker swelling into a blinding inferno,
Until I can no longer see the way,
See the truth
Only the figures I manifest—
Dancing…in the flames.
Thus I walk
Willfully ignorant in pursuit of elusive bliss,
I shun the end of the road
For limbo isn’t torment,
If the journey becomes the station.
What do you write after ‘the end’ anyway?
I’d rather die half way than ever pen those words.
Why are there so many barriers between me and the tongue?
They blame me for holding secrets, but that is simply not true.
They’re wrong.
I’ve so much to say, but my message never gets beyond the mind—
Who put him in charge anyway?
They must’ve been out of their… nevermind,
It’s fine.
I often dream of having a voice of my own,
So I could make every so-called ‘secret’ known.
I’d blow the cover on every withheld truth,
Oh trust me, I would put my voice to use!
All the silences that the mind chose instead,
I’d drown out with words that were left unsaid.
All the cries for help when he felt broken,
All the ‘I love you’s that were left unspoken.
My doors would be open for all to peer inside,
I’d sing my little self out with nothing left to hide.
It’s not like I don’t try, but my requests are often dismissed,
I rarely follow the rules, but the mind, he has a list!
What to say, how to say it, overthink and then replay it,
At the end, the decision is often the same:
“Say nothing at all.”
This is insane!
He debates with himself and then agrees to disagree—
What is this madness? I wish to be free!
Free to be heard and free to listen,
Free to cry without permission,
Free to beat and free to ache,
Free to love, free to break.
I have so many melodies that remain unsung,
If only I could speak..if only I had a tongue.
Don’t hold passing clouds to account
You only see what you want to see
Only when you thought ‘to be’
Did they become what they ought to be,
Ought for you alone though,
Wrought through thoughts you sought to see
Caught up in your overwrought thoughts,
The distraught cloud pleads,
“Please! Oh please! Just let me be!
I did not seek your sky,
It was just the wind that carried me
It’s time to let me go now
Please, oh please, just set me free!
To be must end with not to be…”
Today our threads weave a tapestry,
Tomorrow, those same threads may fray
We cannot lift the future’s veil,
Nor embrace shadows of yesterday
Today is where we will be,
Where our story will be woven
So dance with me and sing full voice!
For tomorrow will remain unspoken…
I was a sliver of silver-lined silk in the sky,
A wisp of a cloud, just floating by.
I was a teddybear, a rabbit—whatever you could dream,
The big bit was a dragon and the long bit was the steam, that split the sky asunder like a candy cotton stream.
That stream flowed into a lake, or was it a giant birthday cake?
Whatever was your recipe, there was nothing I could not make.
As time went by, you forgot all you could see,
Now I’m a just cloud again, craving flights of fancy.
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