the better I write
the more I may draw you
in
to me
you may draw me
or scribble
maybe even venture an outline
but art is art
you envisioned
and I was no longer transparent
I am tangible to you
obsessed with writing better
you may love me one day
they may love me better
outside of this
life is too nuanced
trying to decipher risk
when I’m as hyper as hyperbole
as introverted as hyperbolic
as uncertain as hypothesis
maybe my creativity can
create us
can
create freedom
can
create love
can
create acceptance
can
create wholeness
can
create healing
can
create sanity
can
you create with me?
Love
All We Have, Is
you and me
tied together, destiny
don’t you run from me
I’ll run to you
if we don’t last
least the moment did
that’s all I ask
’cause it’s all there is
Where Will You Be?
when I am free
where will you be?
where will you be,
when I am free?
will you be free,
when I am free?
will you be,
when I can be?
will you be,
where I can be?
will you be free,
when I am free?
will I be free
to be, me?
will you feel free,
where I can be?
can I ever be free,
not being me?
can you let me free
to be?
and if I, am me
can you be, I
therefore, I, am you
because being, is we
can this state, set you free?
free, to be, you,
free, to be, me,
free, to be, we?
this state, sets me free
so, where will you be,
when I am free?
will you too, be, free?
Timing, when Time is Up
a lifetime
wanting to be seen
by the wrong crowd
that same time spent
looking, for the wrong people
these moments of realization
spent,
trying to see the right person
but still,
not seen as the right person
by that right, person
because
maybe that person
still,
looks at the wrong,
people
not realizing,
the right person
now sees her
and when she may finally see
he,
may have already gone back
given up
to the lifetime
spent
where he sees
and is seen
by the wrong people
because,
at least he is seen
a desire
shared by he, and ghosts
and so
the cycle goes
as he ebbs
she flows
3 am
I’ve climbed
at this late of hour
REM’s Everest
she stirs little
and I venture
in this mountains peak
has my thoughts of she
placed me
in her dreams
although alone
below the clouds, above the breeze
with all there is to scream
as cathartic impulses halt my rest
I simply pray
she sleeps in peace
restored and set free
to be
wherever she seeks
and God deems it be
Take a Hike/Hint
and when does diligence, become
delusion?
and will, wishful thinking?
on what rock, called island
does ego get casted away to
to ponder,
when is giving up,
not giving in?
before more becomes destroyed
because you had the tireless legs of a young boy
and how many hints must there be
for insanity to become ones plea
so you may finally decree
that she’s just not that into me?