That escalation was merely a product of miscommunication

thoughts and actions misconstrued

Anonymity amplified for the seekers can only lead to desperation and hysterical behavior

Animosity harbored can only bring sickness when we come faceless and wanting

Declare this head space unfit for sanity if you truly believe me monstrous

Who am I?

With pupils pondering tightropes and nails sufficiently chewed

I will surely be my own undoing

There is a place where the rivers flow, and the weary eagles lay low,
It’s behind the shields of the earth, where the mountains serve as kings.
Displaying glory, wildlife, and peace, there’s a highway where the angels go.
And the battle of the night disappears, where nature finds power and healing.

It’s in the wounds, it’s in the blood, and it’s in the spirit,
That leads angels between the ring of mountains.
In the blue horizon, they swiftly sing in perfect lyrics.
And the land is laden in pure snow, healing the nations.

Like the clouds of the sky, in the thunder, you can see,
The six silver wings, and the Spirit that’ll set us free.

Before you inflame yourself with insecurities
Just be cognizant that there are men out there whom will want to make love to you every night and morning after they get home
And take care of you without thinking about it
Compromising their personal wants and desires
To keep you smiling
Always be mindful of what the real men will do
Instead of the boys
If you ever feel inadequate and you ask him if he loves you
The answer will always be Yes
You'll be his fuel to carry on even when he doesn't want to
There's nothing he wouldn't do to keep that smile on that beautiful face
And there's nothing that would stop me from doing the same
That's partially what I live for

My face fell for these scenes perpetually  persuaded by silence

No room for articulation inside these pin drop prisms

The graces pool for a better freak show

Their only crime was observing

So we strain for serendipity misconstrued

Surely this banter is beautiful and destined for comfort

Surely we know the why inside this want

Never admitting these conditions only cover my human in a filmy flattering

So often I trip over shocked expressions

Painted with numbed creatures

Patchwork anatomy with free fall tendencies

As if disappointment was concrete recently spilled

limbs in stagnant stances

I no longer linger here

The noise was nonsense with a hysterical hindsight

Thumbs out for stranger company

The family units blur inside tin and fume

Exhaust pipe cough and these hands clench cold

Tube stuck finger muck cancelled glances

Beg for a reason in a harsh dawn display

Blue pipes run black and they forget forgetting

Move on small mishap
This mind remains unhinged

Stay still time specked sky
You may inspire a rooftop excursion

Beam me a better vacation I was never meant for everything

Sand paper benches and tile shine syndrome

Vanity is irrelevant here

I fear broken recollections and punctures so I perch with grassy knolls

Its consistency is that of Easter baskets

Surely this is man made ground

I tell this to my shadow and it sighs with excuses

Maybe you were never real and this pulse was inspired by limbo

Maybe I'm not really here

These masks slipped from my shelf and the sounds don't make sense

He presents what you see
with impeccable finesse.
He hides everything else behind the curtains.
Heavily veiled by his smiles...
Cleverly masked behind his script.

He stands elevated, taking his stage.
From his vantage he sees all.
He allows his facade to bask in the light...
Whilst keeping his back in the shadow.

He's renowned.
By the light that kills the dark.
He's addicted to the nightly ovations,
cascading cheers and gleaming reviews.

But every show has an end.
Come every dawn, he wakes to the reality
that tolls at his door.
He's owned and he knows it...
Too well,
by the stage he built
and the drama he wrote and casted.