Strung prose Like puzzle pieces Broken across the page No longer Im too linear now For all that Maybe Before long I'll write Instruction manuals And think They're poetic
If time is simply an illusion A functional interpretation of quantum reality Then do we not time travel Each time we remember?
Until failure upon failure, Until truth strips the soul bare, Until discipline breaks the bone, Until I bend, Then break— Again. Until knees bleed, Lips tremble, And I shatter Into a thousand silent pieces.
a mans redemption is a painful and fruitgul journey
All we need is darkness for the natural selection of light I watch the past as a travel show the necessity or adversity ignites language, different shapes of games, we like the power plays of circle let me be sealed in a wave I want to descend to the faith of sand to the Cro-Magno vision of words
A soft kiss like a whispering breeze And brings me warmth and comfort In moments of care and True love is everywhere and It lingers in the air and A gentle reminder to seize.
I think I’ll write another poem & name it after you use words that still confuse me & then use them like they’re glue throw lids on my good mornings all misread and reused pretend every day is Sunday sleep in & come to I’m driving myself crazy play the same songs and peruse the head I use to love you & the bones inside me too I will not rush it like tomorrow won’t try to burn a tiny wick still I just fall asleep to you writing a poem like a wish