Unexpected

My hand drips with nervous anticipation.
It does not matter,
As the same is experienced by destiny’s left.

Ironic that this existence now brings me what I left broken.
I was so confident that I had satisfied all my dues,
But it looks like there are more sins to be paid for.

I do not desire power or influence.
All I want is to feel alive,
And remember why I chose to come back.

21

It couldn’t have been anymore clear.
Statements made from self-righteous empowerment.
No amount of present alterations could untwist what has been swept away.

Though the ladder lacks height, I cannot stop now.
So tiny my understanding must have been to even fathom climbing back down.
I remove my belt and tear away at cloth (clearly not worth the coverage) just to arrive.
The door pulsed a jar from some silent force.
Just.
Inches.
Away.

A face.
The one I‘ve kept closer then my enemies,
Will never great mine in the morning.
But when I am drowning in my sleep,
She is always there to pull me up.

Patchwork Heart

Blessings depart untrue from the heavens.
Those beings cloaked in light, casting their dark intent before me,
Were unnecessary from the start.
 
My secret admirer essence has run dry.
Stalled since I could drive.
I now suppress the stuttering beat of my patchwork heart.

 

Presently the course has been set for more narcissistic means.

With the jaws of life sharply sinking in,
Certain presumptions are stretching far too thin.

So, I release my hold.

Letting the four winds steal me away,

To a land that time forgot.

Again

The wingspan could not be matched.

Inside the resulting heat, spectacular images echoed.

Gorgeous lullabies emerge from sources less beautiful.

Heads bobbing,

Just above the waterline.

Walking through stories brings a skewed perspective to my waking reality.

Not knowing if the events revolve around factual encounters,

Or tales twisted by those without.

So it is goodbye.

Whirling over and under thoughts past the start.

Worlds that were created inside the pale trap,

Leave me cleaning up awkward feathers of growth.

Every moment that passes,

They soar from my pours.

(How does it feel to not know what you are missing?)

Above The Clouds

As the luminous day transforms into dusk, a fragile balance has been disrupted.

Trapped in the twilight of despair,

In stumbles the bruised man,

Cut twice by others.

The next time I wish to conjure up a ghost, I will greet my reflection covered in cloth.

Escape would be simple if these vines could be removed.

Becoming part of the merging light, it is difficult to separate myself from the noise.

The foundation forced its firm influence against my spine,

A gift and burden intertwined.

Blocks only serve as a jumping point,

The challenge is to find one resting above the clouds.

I let the fog cascade through my whispers,

And place old patterns where memory fails.

The shock of seclusion has indubitably left its mark across my senses.

Such beautiful weather for a tragedy.

Bottle of Tomorrow

The message was clear, move forward or the force of the fall would push the knives in deeper.

So I kept moving.

In love with the wait.

Impact of eyes carries the loop that skips on the corner of my time.

Liquid pools,

Unique in its pattern.

Shining like a bird in autumn.

Confusion settles while searching for transport.

In the moments that precede the cutoff, I reflect on the night’s journey.

Black and green have always pulled me since there was trouble in China.

I cannot detail what explodes in my presence.

For now it is better that the ether holds it close.

A least something does.

These arms have lost their will to rise,

The desire is there, but my conscious keeps it in check.

Always in check.

Moving forward would set me back, so now I only dream.