by spending money
on continuous warfare
the empire didst fall
it ate up its cash supply
until there wasn't a cent left

Empires of the past
had also done the same thing
yet America
ignored history's lesson
that should've of been well heeded

Checked boxes—form after form,
Each line a frame, each word a norm.
My life fits in a box, tight, exact,
No space for truth, just listed facts.

From five to sixteen, not once held near,
No soft words, no voice to hear.
Just blank stares and doors shut fast,
A love I searched for but never grasped.

I fought for myself at eight years old,
No shield, no hand, just breaking cold.
Lessons came not through play,
But silence sharp as knives each day.

My childhood—robbed, not lost,
Bartered dreams at trauma’s cost.
I learned to walk while bracing pain,
To smile through walls of acid rain.

Still here, still standing, still I rise,
Past the boxes, past the lies.
Not what they gave me—
But what I survived.

We were stuck—frozen under the weight of a sun that burned like a punishment, a heavy force that dragged us in, making us feed on the very thing that was destroying us. The air felt wrong, suffocating, as if it were trying to choke the life out of us.
And then, once again, those empty horses came galloping through that violet door, their hooves thundering, following crooked paths that twisted in ways I couldn’t understand. They left shadows behind them, stretching across the moonlit floor like dark, twisted memories. The stars, those cold, distant things, gathered high above us—winged creatures, silent, watching, like the last remnants of humanity’s lost teachers. We had no choice but to bleed again, even as time shook us, spilling crystal blood like a dream that refused to end. A ripple in the wound, and then we woke up—alive but changed. You believe, and I believe, too—that you are the river of light, the one I hold on to, even as the night closes in, empty and endless, like a long, dark hallway with no end in sight.

The house stands, white and vacant, a mausoleum in the middle of nowhere. I’m a child again, lost in the dead grass, where no one’s ever really lived.
A crow watches—too **** close—and I can feel it, that cold, relentless weight on my chest. The swings creak, a broken lullaby. Names whispered in the wind, not mine, but they tear through the air like a chain.
I half-return, half-flee, caught in the dark breath of a place that hasn’t let go. The lawn’s dead, the house is dead, and I—am I still breathing?

water shines like dreams that mystify their depth
in nights without moon by the sea the solitude of breath is even stronger
a savage sea feeds on the memory of light, but only the sand carries its age
its black heart rumbles a white rage
a watery path their dreams, they travelled by sea or the surface of time
they envisioned us perhaps
in the randomness of waves

the breaking edge of waves consumes me
wind, sand, water, light meet
in the love story of a time
surfing its waves

Sands of time
Flesh and bone
Bent but not broken

Decades came and went

Fearless one
You swooped in
Without anger

Ruler of all

Forgiver of sins
And wrongdoings
Freedom came at a price

Yours forever

Closer to heaven then ever before
Strong enough
To shoulder thee burdens

To forgive the wicked

Sinners of this place
By your grace alone
I was saved

From my wretched self

Is nothing short of a miracle
There are no words
Forever grateful

Could it be

I can finally
Feel my heart beat steady
My eyes are clean

My soul has been washed

Cleansed by you
I am truly in awe of all your are
I’m not worthy

There is only one

Never be another
Never duplicated even if they tried

Holy majesty never shaken

You are truly thee ONLY ONE FOR ME