A long time ago, in a field full of octagons and spikes, a flower bloomed. It’s nectar satiated any hunger for desire or despair. Unlike flowers supple with scents and allure, this bloom was Still. With a transparent yet cloudy texture, it was a quiet truth amongst colors. This bloom held steady through turbulence of ego, force, will, and all things forcing their way to a point of satisfaction. It breathed effortlessly like a white dress dancing in the breeze.
If I could keep driving, I’d ride until the end of my days
The road would lead me to the endless sunrise of the next adventure, seemingly I've always wished was near
A lone ranger doesn't have time to lead a happy life
We want to
We try to
We just can't seem to catch enough sunrises alone to find another to share them with
One day I'll let someone hold my hand, I'll sing out load again, and we'll chase tornadoes, ride on motorcycles naked, drink raindrops in poppy fields while lightning electrifies our soul
FLASH
FLICKLER
FLASH
back to the tornado of my thoughts, of the bets, of the Cowboys and lonely folk we call family, yet never have family dinners
Alone, yet bizarrely ok
Sad to be alone
Confident to be alone
Wanting to not be alone
People don't see, so I stay alone
Underneath a velvet curtain, a play commences-
One to dwell and never come back from…
Falling deeper into the fantasy, curtains wrapping me up, twirling in
a daydream.
a night dream.
a deja vu.
a glitch dream.
a foreboding dream.
a key dream.
an omen?
Escaped thoughts from decades past, a scar, an eyeball red from pain, a poem, that glitch in time… high, then crashing down.
A lawn of anger and broken castles leading to a new dawn of joy.
Duality so palpable it’s almost enjoyable.
As if the future Voice I hear is caught up with the one in the present.
Give up faith too easily, I feel that is me.
Too long in the Shadows, too brave my heart to be a slumbered racket, breaking into a princess’s tower rotting in fear and shame.
Will it always be like this?
Will the pianos and codes always flow like these wings sad yet pouring tears of creativity and creation?
None to say, none to save-
The happiness will arise as my flying pendulum stops in the center- hovering and blocking the wind.
Sad or Same
I am to gain none
Future flashing, most not to come
Intimacy more frightening than a dark dungeon of terror and horrors await.
Why, sweet friend, don’t you wanna be held? For slumber is sweet in a rose bed of breaths