What’s funny is that I can do anything
I can wake up early or late
I can eat whatever and try to enjoy it
I can be healthy
Unhealthy
I can be funny or serious
I can provide advice
Insight
I can convince myself everything is falling apart
Or I can see the good things and press on
Both are true
I can preach understanding and love
Spout mindfulness and dissect psyche
And at the same time I can walk the line of sanity on a Tuesday
I can present together, safe, smart, ahead
And at the same time crave those things to the point they are unattainable

Smother ground
Soar in breeze
Breathe them in
Release yourself
you have to change with them
natures known what’s best for awhile now
the cycle keeps you alive
turn orange then yellow
make your descent to the floor
Make room for fresh motion

i want him to touch me in places that’s going to make my skin burn

pride goeth before the fall

not a dry eye in the house

the little indent on my finger
on my ******* right above the third knuckle on my right hand
from my pen
it reappears when i’m writing again

I wear my watch
on the inside of my wrist,
for the time is mine alone.

its my new favorite thing
so smooth, stimulating color
like butter across my paper
scratching like mice making cave drawings
thats me
mouse trying to be remembered
that's all i want

I write poetry to get to know myself
When I forget who I am
I go through my spilled verses
And I remember.

There is an immense beauty
That is waiting to be seen
Excastic
In fire
Take your pen
And write a poem
Today.

BUT A GLIMPSE OF THE SOUL
INTACT
THE FUSION
OF ALL WINES,
GODS

And tonight:
All i wanted from a book:
To hear a familiar voice.
A friend!