it comes down to the forgotten fact
that we are all animals
simply mammals
acting as though our bones were made of chrome
our hearts were made of stone
and our homes were made of gold
instead
we are born with a soul
that needs nurturing to grow
never with a bar-code
we are not produced to be sold
how do we dare be so bold?
titling ourselves the smartest creatures ever to roam
in actuality we've become programmed weticos
all competing to fit the same unfulfilling molds
and to reach our conditioned goals
we spend our time
stabbing needles down the soft skin
of mother natures irreplaceable spine
repeatedly
allowing her to bleed out
slowly
over
and over
but while we all take turns
leaving our mark
we forget that we are her
all lost
in our purpose

comfort is my enemy disguised in warm blankets and black coffee

comfort paralyzes me then tries to tell me I'm still free

comfort took me by the hand, caressed it, acted like a man

comfort is a covert leech using me each chance it can

comfort kills each opportunity long before it is presented to me

comfort is an illusion that fools me, invoking irreversible confusion

comfort is no longer comforting, instead it ignites insanity's bomb

comfort loves to win by pinning me down from my soles to my palms

I've learned things
like a flame is coldest
at its tip
right in the middle
is where you get lit
the quickest

and
someone who
admires the curves
of your feet
is certainly someone who
was worth meeting

also
when you act like you don't care
the world acts accordingly,
loses meaning,
refusing so much as a glance
at your stare

mostly
if you don't wish
to be stuck
with a name you've created
for yourself
there are means of depleting it
if you remember the lessons of
placement
appreciation and
passion

is one night
worth the four seasons?
because I've been struggling
to divide a line
through
the calls and the silence
between
the morals and the violence
and I still
have not
chosen a side yet

I crave the physical feeling
of you fleeting
but psychologically
cannot stand you leaving

little peach colored amphetamine
allows reality
to be a dream
uncertain if it prohibits meaning
or stifles raw creativity
it's hard to decipher when without it
there seems to be no purpose
no motivating factors
are present in its absence

naturalistic existence
e x t i n g u i s h e d
by addictive dependence

lacking attachment to actuality
solely pieces of speed can calm me