Leap;

Hey there, little Capricorn, don't look so forlorn; you've got a beautiful brain if you could just learn. So many little flutters of something far beyond this gutter utter their presence in your mind. If you could only find the time to shine, you would blow their minds. You've got a ways to go but with another step you'll be so much closer to the end of your unpredictable story. These streetlights shine directly into my eyes as though accusatory lines and rhymes were never enough to blind one like they blind. Shhh, don't cry. Look to the sky and think of all the stars. All the little gleams of hope at your fingertips, waiting to be provoked and pursued, for you to make your move. Leap like a tiger and capture your prey, I'll help you to corner it, since I got away. The first kill of the day is never the greatest, simply the one that will do. But in the end you'll have plenty a win and More than enough meat to chew.

A bad day

can hear bones crack and scream. What you see may not always be as it seems, blood runs down the sewer in streams and refuses to let you forget. No muss no fuss, fuck that you won and I'm screaming bloody murder hoping their ears have rung. Do you like it yet? Life = regret and if you want to come out on top you've got a ways to go yet. Tell me the life story of the girl you never knew, the one you always dreamed about but she never saw you. Perhaps her circumstances will open her sleeping eyes, and let her realize how far she really is from the sky. My, oh my what a tragic sight. When she sits in defeat, still knowing she was right. Can you give me one last breath? One more smile before you go. A reminder that I'm still human, so the memory never goes. What happens when you can't tell love from hate anymore? Call it quits or try some more? I can feel the waste that is me, see the face that used to glow, but only exists blankly now for cheap show. I'll take a hit to erase this and a drink to wash it down, and I'll watch the world unravel with but a passive frown.

 

Rest your weary eyes

and dream of something more. Beyond this ramshackle life you hold. Come now, my child, my seeker of gold, fly and perhaps you'll seek so much more. A home for the cold and the hungry and poor is a luxury most cannot afford, so we will go above and beyond our lonely mediocrity to search and find what we've been missing. Come now, my one and my all, can you remember the day I recall? Back when nothing had impact and everyone had it all, can you remember those leaves that would fall? The autumn wind foreshadowed this oncoming disaster, pulsing faster and faster with every chill. Don't tell me you never saw, never heard the fear. Never could you have missed these calamities so near. But now, in the midst of all that's gone wrong, these shimmers of light have come along, but before the light switched off and the Gods went to bed, these flashes of brilliancy were in my head. And so I tell you my child of the night, you must rest your weary eyes and dream of the light.

Day after day I'm so afraid of how I feel. The way history repeats its self proves so surreal and I find myself sitting at the edge of the same rabbit hole I jumped down in prehistory with the same painfully intense yearning and curiosity. The old becomes so new and tempting and while I owe myself the possibility of everything I've always wanted, I'm held back by the fear of losing all I have.

Then.

Then it was different. Then, instincts didn't matter because they were ruled out by fear. Then, all of the red flags and consequences vanished and the only thing I could see and all I looked forward to was the end. The end of another regret before it began. Never did I ask myself what awful things would come out of these short moments of surrender. Never did I think of all that would become tainted. Not once did the pain of now cross my mind then. Then, I was the only human being I trusted. 

Then was not today.

The day you do everything you're told...

Is the day you become a slave to someone less than yourself...

Those who feel the need to control what isn't theirs have no control over what is.

Take charge of your life.

Never surrender.

"May all your weeds be flowers."

I try not to take for granted the dandelions and wildflowers that are so unappreciated.

Maybe they're not as perfect, and maybe they're not as well-groomed, but maybe they deserve more credit.
Sure, a rose smells good and all.

But can it grant a wish?

"There is no beauty...

without some strangeness in the proportion."
- Edgar Allan Poe

Maybe the concern isn't whether you're normal,
but whether you're strange enough to be memorable.

Dusty Table

I see in color and I wonder if the color sees in me. Traces of what I thought was never there are left beneath my feet and only when I search do I notice them reflecting all Ive done wrong. And I ask, as if Ill ever get an answer, if these fragments can see anything reflecting off of me.
Or is it all an illusion? A magic show with no magic to it, just a few tricks for kicks. Where to draw the line between reality and something far from it, has yet to be located. I am a paper doll. I am a cardboard cutout of something far beyond my reality. I am a microscopic organism of decaying matter which is no more real to them than germs are to me. Or am I everything? Or something in between? Sometimes I think I may be nothing more than a dusty table, but sometimes looking into space at night is like looking in the mirror. I am a pencil eraser. I am a germ. I am a sky scraper, I am the world. Sometimes I see the universe and I wonder if it sees me.