I mistreated you
I cheated you of a freedom needed for us to mend.
I was wading, waiting just to swim again.
against the tides is where I’ll find the path to pave the space needed
to make way for every ounce I couldnt appreciate
Never sing a song to a woman who wants to leave
I’ve turned into a madman, I think that’s enough for me
Will I make it to the end we’ll just have to wait and see
I ain’t Think that far yet but there’s no time to be
The one to hold you in his arms when your heart bleeds
I can’t humanize my **** disguise we’ve parted ways
My soul and I Parlay
prequels fondly pondered I’ve tread onward
focus was astray
Ive taken bigger bites than one can chew
Without a stain
I’ve seen it through
I came to play with aftermaths
And whatever’s left of sanity
don't know it all and won't pretend i Am saint
To me, imposing my beliefs would be deceit
Can’t captivate
man who has refused to see
Reduce the heat, don’t slave away for poverty
Its uncommon to solve problems with commodities
You’ll have to seek beneath the skin
My best attempt was making peace with the friends ship
allowed to sink
I keep the channel open, hoping that we meet before it ends.
I'm finding new approaches to the dreams I will transcend.
Now with all I know I can make sense of the events, a toast to the amends .

Somewhere between ripe and rotting, I will love me again

Wear my flesh like rind and reclaim my sweetness


I am not dying yet, but I am not living         and I am thirsty

For days, dazed and drugged on dirt’s divinity, brown knees


Nestled under the willow tree, the sun promises to purify me

Before the night swallows it whole, and regurgitates it tomorrow.


Somewhere between ripe and rotting, I will shatter my shame

Shed my sin, kiss palm to palm and nail a cross above my bed


Rid myself of impiety and feel what it feels to be clean.

I will walk the veins of the forests and trail the spines of the hills


Forage for berries and fall stupidly in love, over and over and over

With the art of existence and one day I will mean it when I say


I want to live. I want to live. I want to live. I want to live.

And how does one ask for help? Or plead and not feel
Pity, shame? And does one ever grunt and say what one needs to say?
At some point in the yarn of the time, how does one
Look over one’s shoulder to reconcile,
How does one open a mouth to say
“I am lost. I think” But does one truly think,
Or act on the impulses.
Or calm oneself to ask. Ask!


And “When should I think?” I ask
“soon,” I say, “soon, on some wintery night,
When my windowpanes creak in the cold,
When my steel glass never gets warm,
I might think or ask, how does one not think?
and find a reason to reason with it;
The weary long journey, how it doesn’t end
And seems to start at every corner of the road”
“Perhaps, I shall shave my head
and wash my face with some fragrant soap
or trim my beard to look sharp and address it,
perhaps, soon!”

Superseded my conditions with something simple, a vision for the mind to segue into:
An expedition to the stars, a journey towards difficulty fortified my convictions.
Experienced fourth dimensions, I have stepped into the infinite.
And none is perfect, I am aware of my impulses.
With a heart full of verses, I set the stage to play a role. This is all with a purpose.
I have indulged; I am at fault. There's so much to interpret.
Turbulence settled.
I learned to get leveled with vendettas developed since I was a kid, man.
Learned not to meddle; instructions were heaven-sent.
To go where few bodies had been, I had to find hobbies that aligned with the angels so that I could find the angle
to finally handle everything that I've been through.
A prevailing discomfort encompassed; imagine the troubles.
I rolled with the punches, and I came out triumphant.
From starving to marveling at the cosmic alignments and frequently fighting with God to having so many run-ins.
It's hard to keep a facade when destiny's tugging.
At war with myself, but the timing is perfect.
It has to be worth it; the truth has emerged.
Ever since I sunk into the depths where I dwelled and found my way to the surface.

What I feel is nothing,
No sorrow, no happiness,
No fear, no comfort,
Yet I smile and let it phase ,
Into an emotionless state.

A nobody with no desire,
I have tiny aspirations,
To keep me abode this plane,
Floating in existential dreams,
I wake myself up again.

To tread this life's path,
I think I wasn't chosen,
Or perhaps I chose to be,
To quell this tug and pull,
Of cosmic threads that hold me.

What I feel, I think not.
I think not, what I know.
I know not, a single speck.
Yet, I carefully maneuver,
For what I know, may not be.

What goes in, always,
Comes out,
Through the ******* of life,
Which is **** itself.

Such a waste,
That we are born,
Live,
And die,
Fighting for things,
Money
Materials,
******* things,
That we can’t take with us,
When we die.

What a ******* waste it all is,
Yet somehow,
Everything and everyone is needed,
For the next phase of waste.
**** becomes fertilizer,
We become reborn,
Into whatever else is **** out next.