i find the crossroads
i have a tendency to
walk into
during times like these

it’s empty here
except for the invading gusts
of mannerless winds
that don’t say “excuse me”
or “please”
as they pass me

i await for a vehicle
my preference would be
an expensive one
like a really nice rolce royce
to make this quick
painless but pricey

i can feel weight on my chest
about such a lightness in my life
i have people
but there’s this recurring
lack of soul
that makes me feel
ancient and aimless
like lost history
that everyone is familiar with
but no one truly knows
anything of

i feel like the homeless men
i pass by on 137th street
they go by unseen
might as well be six feet deep
in a cemetery

i observe my helpless will
crave for the ability to slow
my mothers inevitable aging
as it shuffles through files
and memory after memory
in search of some hidden
ancient
wisdom to stop time

my dwindling creations
collect dust
in a digital shelf
while i deal with the rust
i’ve allowed to form
in my bank accounts
credit score
and stomach

there’s so much maintenance
towards the inflammation
in my life
that there’s no more antibodies
for anything else
so much struggle to hold
this boulder up over
my neck
which makes me strong
but this constant sweat
leave no more water
for tears

i don’t crave opportunity
i don’t need a friend
i love my lover and my mother
but they ain’t meets to an end
of the never ending fear
of simply not being enough

i crave release from my own responsibilities
i find this tug of war between
sacrificing the self
to overcome it
in order for the greater goods to be
fulfilled
as well as this death of my ego
while
making sure my soul
is still grounded
to be *******
exhausting

i crave a pasture

allowing me to float over the singular blades of grass
allowing me to become
weightless
in the face of all this
pressure

i remember being a boy
and in my island the hills
and mountains and beachfronts
have their own voices

i remember distinctly climbing highly
or swimming far out
or exploration between the tree lines
to be a form of soothing
not therapy
but rather warm rejuvenation

where i wouldn’t think about
my finances and debts
or my relationships and ties to
characters i love
the ones i tolerate
and the ones i’m trying to love
i wouldn’t think about
stability or a consistent routine and schedule

i’m all grown up now
and my creativity compared to
the vast
and endless universes
i’d hide in
as a boy
are a forest fire
compared to my candle
at twenty three years old

i lay here silent
in the middle of this crossroads
waiting for that kid
to come hold my hand and teach me something
because he had the right answers
or at least better answers
he cared about the right things
he genuinely saw
the divinity
in all
and now i’m old enough
to struggle finding the silver lining
in anything

i remember being so creative
that life was almost missing suffering

where the lack of it wasn’t even anywhere near my awareness
and i wasn’t anywhere near as brave
or strong
or wise

it’s almost like the more i know
the older i get
the more i go through
and the more bills i pay
the less of a human being
i become

where the
****
is this **** car
already

hurry up

-melancholicreator

you drive my car    and i am a serious man
a passenger   thru dumbland                  
leadened head laid back                
i've been allotted time   in that liquid sky
totally fxxxed up   but it's bin a day  hasn't it?

don't breathe                              
           we are gone
beyond     we are eyes without a face
our inter-beings   all blood tea and red string
in the wrong hands   we are a ****** party
hand in hand you are my spider baby        
                    and i  am all ‘mom and dad’ at play
i dread you should say 'i don't know what you mean ?'
...but it doesn't come to that
you allow me          
           and we are smiles unravelling space and texture
miles of scope and no arrest for the wicked
no rest for the foreign
no reign for the horses   no horse for a kingdom
we are kings of this country                        
    yet we belong to this landscape
and its negative edible

riding with you (roof down  converted)            
we joined the new world                                    
we took a journey   to the beginning of time      
    it feels like we're fleeing   an extravagant shared criminal act
i look across at you  and the brood of thoughts    
are so sedate and fantasy ***** and socially writ
that i broker the realities we’ve borrowed                 (the flux gourmet splatter of dimensions)
and return us to the pair of cannibals in love that we are
                                          firing out across trip america
           an invention for destruction
invited back by life's appetite


                                             [signed] ­- a love exposure