I look at myself in the mirror, and through the morning dew I see the space in between my laughter and the torment of my childhood that made me the being that I am, barely standing before you with an aura of strength.
Thursday, December 3, 2020
Friday, March 13, 2020
Tremors
Channeling voices
We should control our reality, not allow our reality to control us. But sometimes you’re compelled. What compels you?
Sometimes the truth in your eyes, clouded white could be the death of your mother. I would wish to get close to you, but the wind would blow you away. So I watch you through the glass. Sometimes rubbing sand in my eyes is more desirable than seeing you like this. Scarred by your own admission. Ceremony to show your growth. Your individuality, your freedom. Those closest to you, may love you in a way that they would do anything to save you. But I, I love you in a different way. I love you enough, to kill you. From the ashes you shall rise, with a new sense of who you are.
I don’t remember clouds when we were young, were there any? How far can we swim? As far as we can. When we got there, What would we do? Everything. I’m afraid, aren’t you always afraid?
May life never tear apart what death combines. One day I’ll tell you my story. Then you’ll see the whole picture. You may feel that it is beautiful, but that’s only the surface. It’s perfect in its dimensions. Within it’s imperfection. In it’s disease. Then you all awaken. With that you became this thing of my creation. Non-binary, with even larger wings than before.
I gave it a name, as a witches spell, with a name comes life. Sometimes dying is like just going out of focus. For a while. In one eye. I put mirrors behind the eyes so that it could see although it was dead. And I got it, and a way that you always would, but it in a way that you never could. Because when I did, it was forbidden. My secret in the maze. Like so many others, from so many others. The beautiful misery of it. Sometimes you have to act crazy just so that people Believe that you’re sane. Restrained by your own actions, simply to prove a point. In this asylum, with this hysteria. Bathed like a slave of the crucifix. Am I clean? Is this what you want? To be bathed in my tears and cut off all my hair. For me to lose my identity as I take your name. Become your property. Oh how I long for the lobotomy. To be released from this rachet self awareness. The only way to remove the mirrors from behind your eyes. I lost myself in this moment, enjoying the terror of it. I should’ve chased you into the maze, for then I saw the entire future. You were not survive out there in the world, you were too weak. I love you for your weakness. Your weakness makes you perfect. But I’ll let you go, as anyone should With a beautiful butterfly. To not Tadder your wings. But you will not make it, and it is it my fault? To give you the freedom to make the choice, rather than confining you. The freedom to fly, even if into The light that burns you. It’s your choice. Perhaps if I warned you of the danger, your path would have been diverted. But is it my place? And if I did speak the words, would you listen? Or would it just create bars between us? And if you were a dead thing, shall I keep you then? Placing mirrors behind your eyes, giving your name, to bring you life? Then with that life be mine? Would you take my name? Become my possession? You could shut the door at any time, but will you? You’ve always been drawn to the deep ocean. But can you swim? If the waves spoke, would you listen? Would you bother to try to learn their language so you could learn the lesson?
No matter how much you try to protect yourself with spikes on the outside, you can still get eaten from the inside.
Sometimes you can just sit in the window looking cute until you die from neglect.
You remember when you grow in the desert there’s not a lot of moisture, so it doesn’t benefit you to grow a big flower.
Sometimes you might not have any trouble at all flowering in a bone dead climate. Sometimes you have the liberty of enjoying your surroundings enough that you can Enjoy the things you see, not knowing what they are.
You can just hang out there for another thousand years, don’t worry I’ll be back later.
Time is important when you’re dying, not when you’re tripping. You can consume flowers if you’d like to devour the essence. The bargain section can always get hectic. sometimes you got to wear a helmet when you go in there, it gets hot. often a college student with a septum ring will lecture you on how you’re living your life. you can buy the ingredients to cure coronavinous grants or make a bomb what you do is up to you. You can put it in your ass, just light it on fire before you put it in your ass. There’s nothing like a bunch of PhD stabbing them self over some processed cheese. You got a love this. Better that than people that do not believe in evolution. Individually packaged. forbidden rice, What is that all about? Makes me feel that it’s a bit erotic. I want to take a bath in it. they are filled with hate like most people. But they’re relatively passive about it. if you shoplift from life they will take you in the back and take your portal ride and then shove your face into the concrete. I hope you enjoyed it. Have a nice life. I love the explosions. Right before you’re going to burst out into tears you can enjoy the scars Of the suburban folks embracing their ability to be awake. enjoy the air, it may not always be free. The journey is enjoying it. Fuck it it’s all plastic. I haven’t been this in exhausted and enjoying it in a long time. let’s see if I can make it to the top and don’t die. when I die I hope you remember other parts of me pardon me,
Not only the tiny tree, you like that sacred geometry? My bonsai, I like reckless situations when the favor is in my direction. if no one sees your trash, most people feel there’s no reason to not leave it. How would your mom feel about that? I really enjoy my habitat, sometimes it’s like a strange sex toy. A little bit of vibration a little bit of pain. just before you want to vomit and take a nap. I’m hungry. sometimes your flowers make you look like you’ve had bit of a rough night. in the end anything primal is always the destination. Often you find yourself hiking uphill in the desert against the sun’s rays hoping that you’re not going to die. Only then you find enlightenment. Everything‘s got that weird shape. You can’t escape the hedges, they’re everywhere. Actually they’re kind of remarkable. Like the Betty Crocker of botany. Apparently very tolerant of climate change. Poop The basis of everything is serpentine. so you know when it’s hot and humid in hot as balls outside and you’re very uncomfortable, it’s good to know that you have a place that you can bathe your soul. I’d like to show you something if you’d let me, and please indulge, how long did it take you to evolve? It’s almost obscene. Fuzzy. Different variations of you. The ocean is deep and so is your shit, but luckily I can swim. those are just the fruits maturing. I don’t care how you do your payment, but as long as you’re tied to a brick and throw it through the window or whatever, as long as we receive it we have been mowing your glass grass for over a decade and we’d like to know that you’ll take responsibility for your own actions. this is not a threat, it’s just a stream of consciousness.
Would you like to have an adventure? Now? Because is there any other time?
These life experiences have left me equally happy. Which also means they left me equally unhappy.
When someone asks you what type of music you like, there truly asking you who do you want to be at this moment? 
Thursday, July 25, 2019
We are not, who we are
Well I can speak for myself. I am not who you think I am if we have never met. If all you have to view me is this tiny window of social media. this is not who I am. It’s barely the surface. You want to know who I am?
- I never wear makeup or sexy cloths.
- I have braces.
- My boyfriend and I have been together for 10 years.
- I’m polyamorous.
- I constantly carry a broken heart for some man who has moved on.
- I’m obsessed with documentaries.
- I’m afraid of people & making connections.
- I don’t & never smoked, drank or did drugs.
- I burry myself in work “workaholic”
- I’d much rather sit in a quiet corner and read a book then go to a party.
- Crowds scare me.
- I financially support both my parents and numerous other people in my life.
- I’m a nymphomaniac that is to scared to be intimate with anybody that I have not known closely for over a year because I fall in love with anyone I let inside of me.
- I wear out all my partners.
- I’m obsessed with growth and productivity
- I spend more time at Lowe’s & Home Depot then any other place outside of my house
- I don’t respond to my social media emails because they give me anxiety.
- My time is the most precious thing I can give someone.
- Punctuality and communication is very important to me.
- I’m very direct into the point. I don’t like playing games or beating around the bush. I have no desire in sugarcoating things.
- I keep busy to stay just ahead of my constant depression.
- I never hold a grudge, I always love somebody no matter how many times they hurt me, my love is unconditional once received.
- I have lost two lovers to suicide and one to a car accident as well as too many friends to list.
- My brother died of a heroin overdose a couple years ago.
- I’m almost 40 years old.
- I would love to have a child but my body is not letting me.
- I am a clean freak, obsessed with organization, time management, manifestation boards, schedules and goal sheets.
- I crave consistency, I don’t like change.
- I’m not secretive.
- I am a insomniac.
- I am agoraphobic.
- I’m not religious.
- I’m weak.
- I’m afraid.
- I’m cautious.
- I’m lonely.
- I’m a real person.
- I’m a open book if anyone cares to read, and I’ve been this way for as long as I can remember.
Monday, January 7, 2019
Reverie
Breath
Bad choices
Expectations
7
Lost in years
Sand
You only see a fraction of who I am,
too much sand in your eyes,
too many lies poured into you
until you learned to call them truth.
You cannot see the shape of your own face
when you are trapped behind it.
So I pace back and forth,
wishing you could see me
without translating me
through everything
you were taught to believe.
I cry because I want to tear the lie open,
pull every false thread loose,
and weave the truth
back into the fabric of my youth.
I want to braid it
with everything I survived—
every scar,
every mistake,
every piece of myself
I was taught to hide.
I want to stand inside the wreckage and say:
Look.
This is what remained.
This is what became stronger.
This is what refused to disappear.
We have all cried.
We have all buried pieces of ourselves.
We have all wounded ourselves
trying to become acceptable
to people who were bleeding too.
We mistake pain for punishment,
shame for truth,
silence for peace.
The sand keeps falling
into our eyes,
into our mouths,
into every mirror,
until the disguise becomes so familiar
we forget there was ever
a face beneath it.
We look through scratched glass
and swear what we see is real.
But maybe our vision
is only the shape
of everything that hurt us.
Maybe every scar became a lens.
Maybe every betrayal left a color behind.
Maybe the world isn’t what we see—
maybe we see
what happened to us.
And the pain inside,
the thing someone called ugly,
broken,
wrong,
sin—
maybe it is not proof
that something is wrong with us.
Maybe it is evidence.
A burden, yes,
but also a doorway.
Because what is truth
beneath all that pride?
What are we
when we strip away
the pigment,
the masks,
the stories,
the beautiful lies
we tell ourselves to survive?
Maybe truth
is not something we find.
Maybe it is what remains
when there is finally
nothing left to hide behind.
And maybe the hardest thing
we will ever have to see
is ourselves—
without the sand.
Saturday, January 31, 2015
The ride
God, sometimes I don't feel you are on our side.
I realize that you tried,
Was it a matter of pride when you decide
to apply the divide between a man and his bride.
It was beautiful that you made the endless sky
and that you provide the oceans tied,
but why would you make the mothers cry
as they watch their babies die?
Why would you give us language as a guide
but then slide in the ability to lie?
I do not mean to brush aside,
all the things that you provide,
you see this feeling will not subside
that you have given us freedom implied,
however still our hands are tied,
for although everything is within your eyes
we cannot deny that by your hand we collide,
So I wonder why you would sit beside and allow genocide.
We would apply the tools you supply
to destroy anyone distant or nearby.
You have given us the power inside
to open our mind wide
and with our beauty of arts and music we stride.
Still we find we collide with judgments that bind
the beauties and follies of mankind.
It is true that you supplied and have provided
us with everything we need worldwide,
please don't think we don't appreciate our prayer,
but when we confide do you hear?
Or do you hide and not care?
Did you forget about us? Where we left behind?
Are you def and blind? Or do you just not mind that you have designed
something that could be refined
however is still inclined towards the dark corners of the mind.
You see we plea to be free from this insanity and negativity,
we are at your mercy.
If you do not like what you see and find in mankind,
will you just once again
bury us in the mud of a flood with high tide?
We live in fear that you are not there.
If we are your design, it would be fair that as our guide
please reminded us, with this pain that resides,
can be too much to bear, so is there a plan?
Or are we just along for the ride?
Complete Control
January 23
Oh I want him so much,
all I desire is his touch.
I want him to hold me
and I want him to bind me,
I only wish to hide
so he can find me.
There is no other love like his.
No other caress, no other kiss.
I want to conquer,
I want to ride,
I beg for him to go deep inside.
Are moans are the only sound,
as he flips me around and hold me down.
I will give him my mind body and soul.
Only to him I will give complete control.
My eyes
January 23
When he came into my life, it was a surprise.
For he is my twin, he has my eyes.
When we are together it's absolute bliss.
I crave the caress of his fingers and the smell of his kiss.
For the only thing that we truly fear.
Is the day when the other is not in near.
But to live in this fear is to not enjoy the present.
We do not fully let go because we are hesitant.
How could it be this way as such,
If we truly love each other this much?
Poem - Obsession
Monday, January 19th, 2015
When I was a raised wild, riled, child I never had a clue of your fun.
You were in plays, ballets and often in cafés, it's true, I would watch your perfection.
Although you made me lay a smile,
I never knew too much of what you've done.
In a blaze I saw that you where the glue that compiled many crews devotion.
I offered little but you always repaid as if the future you knew not to shun,
but to me at that time you were a mild haze hue that had yet begun.
With phrase spun after phrase, something inside piled and started to brew, you would stun, as a need to bleed my words as my lungs need oxygen. I was to get a lesson, you became my riled, styled obsession.
At times when I was young it weighs, so I question, perhaps, I bit off more than I could chew, or correction once I knew you, was it just fear of rejection?
With you I felt as won, but I started to go coo coo through a maze of wild thoughts of aggression.
While I was blue, I grew my frayed wings, and with you I flew to the sun through the great mentalization reunion migration.
With you as my number one crazed companion I started to break through, session after session, through this new navigation.
I must mention a little more, you made me soar to the heavens, for with your affection I finally was free. You never did flee or betrayed thee, nore use my weaknesses against me. You were always quality positivity projection.
As a slew of my thoughts would stay for a while, started to pile and spew, was then my progression.
You are my protection, this was something new you see to my comprehension.
I see I must say it was you who got me through when I withdrew in my oppression.
You amaze, for you turned me into thought revenue succession.
You opened my eyes to another view with your phrases of creation demonstration.
With your injection of my imperfection, making me face the skewed view realization of my negativity infection. Because of its detection, I know know it's annihilation.
It's true I never intended to overdue your utilization.
It was a abomination faze, but you grew my walls of literature which became a taboo creation for the direction of my life to realization.
You would always target me when I'd fall into a daze or start to undo and question.
I would always do my best and I never knew in my youth,
what I would turn into with this craze enhancement smooth enforcement of mental interaction.
It's the truth it was not my intention to need your fire much as I do,
to desire this slough of attachment through hire sapio attraction.
No dire argument this is true, you have many ways of putting me in detention.
Never a liar but with my confession you were always there prior to raise me through my depression infection with your deflection.
Whenever I was hurt and wish to retire, nights or days, I ran to you for inspiration.
You would inquire and always there for my pain faze to review correction.
With you I never tire, due to your praise complexion I have grew into a brew of a collection of expression.
Others I may acquire, always come and go but you always stay as my main obsession.
POEM - Left behind
| Wednesday, January 21st, 2015 |
I thought I had a path, I thought that I knew.
I want to move fast, but now I move slow.
For it seems I have forgotten, where to go.
There was a time when my future was clear.
A time when success was inevitably near.
But now I feel that it's come and gone.
And I wonder what I've done wrong.
Was I not clear of soul body and mind?
For it seems I have been left behind.
Saturday, January 3, 2015
I lost myself inside you
Thursday, December 4, 2014
Fall
Bright
Saturday, October 25, 2014
Dream
Thursday, October 23, 2014
Judgment
Monday, October 13, 2014
Metamorphosis
Saturday, September 27, 2014
Ambition
Always in depression, always throwing a pity party,
often seems like excuses, I am full,
As there is always a obstacle.
The main thing that I know that I am doing wrong,
Is waiting for my friends to help me along.
Why I do this, when I've always known,
That to be successful, I must do this alone.
The time is now to make my dreams my mission.
And to be led by my own life's ambition.
Wednesday, September 24, 2014
These are a few of my favorite things
Friday, September 12, 2014
Humanities hand
Simple crazy
Monday, September 8, 2014
Loves scars
Thursday, September 4, 2014
What makes me
Bit off more than you can chew
Midnight walk
Too much to ask
Bad timing
Saturday, August 30, 2014
Hippie new year
Tonight's the night to bring you hire!
Connecting with friends and burning fire!
To dance naked in the foam,
For those who could not make it to burning man, let's burn at home!
Hulu hoop swing and the sparks fly!
Feeling a connection you cannot deny!
To rid your anger, negative past and fear.
For burning man is the hippie new year!
Carnal desire
Thursday, August 28, 2014
Heart wants
Monday, August 25, 2014
Denver
Friday, August 15, 2014
Unmotivated
Unmotivated
I can't get myself motavated.
I feel going out is over rated.
Can't get myself to move worth a shit.
I'm to lazy and I justify it.
I simply can't find the motivation,
Is it lack of interest, or depression?
All I desire is to sit in solitude at home.
My only desire is to write a poem.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Night
Ant
Monday, August 11, 2014
Cage
I am wasting so much time being depressed.
Perhaps given too much time to reflect.
Always just wishing to turn the page.
But still here stuck in this cage.
Forever feeling like I'm walking through muck.
Making it difficult to become unstuck.
I am here to live and let live.
And I try not to be reactive,
It seems as my anxiety will not rest.
When I am this depressed.
But as I roll out of this cage and look to the sky,
And I remove the fog from my eyes.
I only then will begin to see,
That I am the one that caged me.
So if I wish to flee,
I begin to see I am the only one that can release me.
Friday, August 8, 2014
Closet
Sleep
Good morning
Good morning world it's time to open your eyes,
And turn your face towards the sunrise.
Breathe your first conscious breath of the day,
Plan your productiveness and time of play.
With each day you can have your own revolution.
And further your personal evolution.
Always moving forward never being boring.
Stand up and yell to the world, good morning!
Thursday, August 7, 2014
Earth
Or will we bring our cancerous species to outerspace?
We often bring destruction with our birth.
As we take things for granted, like our Earth.
As we construct cities with large buildings.
We often forget that we are this planet's children.
Neglecting our home like no other.
Treating it as a ashtray rather than our mother.
Insomnia
That sleep to me is something rare,
Watching you dream in your bed,
As the noise will not cease in my head.
Insomnia is something that I have faced.
Will often calm in a lovers embrace.
However The trick that works best for me,
Is to focus my thoughts on a documentary.
This is the main thing that I can find.
That is able to quiet my mind.