rearrange.

fail flee feel

that! feels more write.

we fail at 90% of out endeavors;

we flee to the recesses
and the excesses;

we feel, most keenly,
our sense of loss,
and yet the inner linings of our
cells, once more greet a Sun-day that marks a mild fresh-ness and our involuntary ****** muscles bend
intro to a small smile,
and once more,

we breach the day with right hooks of positivity, warmth, music, and begin  to
remember  to
    feel feelings, assorted,
and we minutely reborn and the fluids of birthing are wiped away

and coffee seals the deal...and a hopeful day begins and forgiveness
and forgetting is the clean start clothes we dress ourselves within,
and with out, comfy jeans, well worn raggedy t shirt that you refuse to obey, expressly forbid her

to descard,
(not a rypo).
and you annoy her
with twenty kisses,
cause you don't want to spoil her,,,
too much

Love can make us losers
Invested in love’s game
It can hurt to be human
But..
I love you just the same!

It’s starting. I feel the taps.
I glance over my shoulder. No one there.
In my mind? “Hey chum, got time to spare?”
Time slipped and left the dreadful gaps.

“Hey chum, care to wake up?”
Reality calls. Eyes on us. “Help me out here?”
“Sorry chum, nothing but void.” A nervous tear.
Get up and pour some coffee in that cup.

Dear mind, we need to talk.
“Cease your violent tapping, leave me be!”
Eerily quiet, but the shadows glee.
Dim lights. Senses rest during a late night walk.

Hopeful dawn. Tell me a story, my friend.
“Look at you, chum! Paying attention!” Rising stress.
His lips move, his words roll. Tap tap. “Mind, please continue to process!”
A fleeting tale, instantly lost. I was there for you, yet absent.  

A mind deep as the universe, yet without gravity.
During daylight, always beckoned by fantasy.
My thoughts fade away, my memory fails. I swear it’s not apathy.
I try not to drift. Please bear with me, for your love is my necessity.

My life was
an open book.
You just forgot
to read a few chapters.

When I was alone
in my world.
Alone, but never lonely.
Colours and canvases-
my only friends.
With no one
to care or bother.
You came along,
changed it all.
Now gone.

Each day, I wake as though it’s my last.
Breath held gentle, shadows cast.
No sudden steps, no need to rush.
My soul stands half-stitched to this earth,
afraid to leave before it’s whole.

And when the night begins to break,
And silence draws across the ache,
Just longing for a little grace.
To leave no mess, no word unsaid.
I kneel  beside my bed and pray...

God, if it’s Your wish,
Let me live to see the next day,
not to escape death,
but to finish what life began in me.
But if I must, my soul You keep,
For I have lived, and I have loved.

And so I wait, both still and brave,
A quiet prayer in each wave.
Because living, for me, is a sacred thing
a wish come true in a trembling place.
Just hoping to rise to one more day.


Written by Micko.
©️ 3.05.2025

im meant for this world --just as branches naturally stretch toward the sun's warm light, as roots whisper to the earth and draw water so the plant may bear fruit, as water flows in deliberate motions --gentle, but can break down even the hardest of rocks into sediments, into sand as countless as the stars.

i feel most true when i can feel but cannot see. most true when the fierce breeze of open plains strikes through me, as if my lightness is not enough to blow away my desperations; i have to find meaning in the comparisons between the street's restless hum and the oceans breath... if i close my eyes hard enough, it could feel the same, i could change.

i am meant for this world, and i am so afraid that if i am not, i must eat every moment that has touched my skin; i forgot why my skin is so bruised.......

i am meant for this world, but perhaps i am simply not meant for other people !!!

To feel alive, I stepped out,
earnestly seeking a way to be-
closer to nature, closer to you,  
yet each footfall weighed so heavy.  

My eyes burned and welled up,
I could blame the sun, a little.
Blades of tiny grass pricked my skin-
a feeling I’d long forgotten.  

Fountain grass swayed in gold haze,  
the sun sinking low behind it.
But all that filled my mind, my ribs,  
was your face, your nearness.  

Memories struck clear as glass:  
our fingers first twining tight,  
a story the trees still whisper-
the wind bringing you back to me.

With each passing moment,
I wish to go back in time-
to feel your breath, to hold your hand,
to be near, just blissfully watching you.

~Drained~
yet the salt rivers
carve deeper, still flowing.

~Blind~
yet the eyes search the dark,
groping for the gone.

~Numb~
yet the wound blooms fresh,
each hour a slow knife-turn.

~Fallen~
yet faking through the day,
the cycle grinding on without me.

~Nothing left~
yet the snarled threads
of future and fate choke me awake.

~Dead~
and still breathing.