Holes and gaps
There, can't you see
The remedy
Is only clear,
Only a thing
Because of these
Holes and gaps

Holy crap
Here, remember me
The same thing
So sharp and near
Surrendering
It's killing me
Holy crap

Heavy
A word can be

So heavy
A hole can breathe

A bullet dodged is a shot wasted.
A chance to feel, left wanting.
A chance for healing, erased.

I am but a word on a background.
I am the stone smoldering in the ocean, giving away every part of me that is touched.
I am the open book with the old pitiful spine.
I am the dusty remains of something great.
I am but one nerve-ending, firing off along these lines, catching fire to the page.
I am the knot that holds.
I am the words that let go.
I am the ragged welcome mat of a mediocre cabin.
I am the pine tree that blocks the view.
I am but one and yet around every corner.
I am the serpent that speaks to your apple, whispering you away from the path.
I am the soft breeze that leaves branches wanting.
I am the bird whose song spells LOVE.
I am the problem.
I am the solution.
I am of great division.

Time stops for appreciation.
Space moves through passions to be.
In time, your body fails,
And that space in your head
Discards veils
And moves.

What is it to breathe the same air
As those who take flight
In full daylight
Up towards the sun
To melt and reform
To whatever they choose
And all that they lose
Is their bindings?

What is it like
To go off a side
To roll in the tide
To cook in the sun
To go down below
Where certainly gold
Is buried?

Where do these whispers
Creep through the sound
Of the man who fell down
Of the man who drowned
Of the gold never found
And the soul now unbound?

I'm hard of hearing.

Speaking in comparisons, shedding tears for laughter, a choir of thoughts playing pong.
Preaching in silence, death from birth, and birth from death.
Changing rules, a self-impose, a creeping sudden.
A vision felt, lukewarm heaven, room-temp hell.
A feeling seen, all stones divided, all drops one thing.
Welcome to who you are. (meant to be)

Keep staring at the clock and you'll catch those hands; wake up old, confused, and hurting.

So here we are, no more
willing than able;
with eyes set on some
unknown sovereignty.
Where does one
turn in to
infinity?

No solemn feat

So here we are, in the
space where lips sync.
Twisting in a mystery
post-extinction.
When does
infinity
turn in to
one?

Re-run

There is a feeling
stuck in the beating

of a heart, lost
in the vivid unknown

Courtesy of circumstance I can give a ****,

or maybe I can muster up two:

One for the countless who bled for this chance,

and one for little ol' you.

It is considered obvious you should never show your weakness, and yet it is the most empowering thing you can do.

Hey,
          I miss it
                          too.

It was  no
                   bargain,   either way.



I don't have much
                                      left
                 ­    to say to you,

and that's

                   a crying shame.


I was ready
                         to drop
                                        the clues,


and take on the whole **** mystery with you.