yet

sipping on a cold brew, all gold on the hard block

like a rock in need of a pick me up

heavier in the morning, still rolling with the flow

that captures the imaginary like the dansel in distress

in the modern age you are the one in need of savin'

swing those arms like a true reject, what a dive

in a second the dope will quell, saturate, couldn't get enough

in the movie screens the scream is held up, in 3d

those flashes and dramatic scenes cannot reach you, yet

they attack the unvigilant, the naive and those otherwise

self-inclined to concede a ceacefire and visit the possibility

a mix-up perhaps, yet

a flood once came, to save us from the blaze

a wet sort of guardian that all powerful raised waves

chocking land and soil alike and it was most certainly

not going anywhere, yet

i met a liar too high to see

a partner in crime in a greater escape

share agony, an indiscreet selfish past

i didn't quite understood what to do

so i tightened the knot wrong and it came undone

there she went, flying off the wall, compromised one last time.

i learn slow but god willing have no conscience

misled by a memory that won't allow me to forget

so i love and god willing, yet, to death. 

for I do remember when I needed it and that time is no longer here and now.

a place of need, a mistake, fleeting, now shattered, yet not broken, fully. 

from a place of drifting spaces as Fall runs its due course without needing guidance

the cold provokes a reaction and the inner warmth reconnects shiver to breath

ever so tightly, don't you feel it in the funeral surrounded by pyres

jump not over least you fall madam, come sit by the side of this burning path away

away from Eden where sinners travel sleepwalking, sleeptalking, still talking, or

at least I do.

a blur, the headache arrives like a spell, summoned by thought alone.

it is not the voices but wires that violate my abandon towards herecy, decimate me oh bad bad decisions

those that bind me to my humanity and confirm that i do not know what the fuck i am doing

yet.

sad today, I guess

there is a knot at odds with my throat

and it prevents me from looking up

the dust is settle and because

yes, because I recall a better place

I have quite frankly have had enough.

I used to look down and feel happy instead:

guiltless, clueless, oblivious to what were to come

every lost a stone thrown

at me whilst hitting both of us

this synch union unveiling, betraying perhaps nothing left

to be careful about, a bad omen reactionary

up the stairs, down the stairs, march

he spun me a tale of 'running without a care'

imagine, 'without a care', and so I travel

to the swing of yesteryear, there where pain does not exist

where a confortable shoulder is a better place to lean my tired decaying body

than the knot.

I do dare then

and look up

a painting from a friend I no longer see, no longer speak

a birthday gift I cherish deeply

the sea I descripted through words

he left painted for me.

suddenly I remember, I feel blessed

for every experience shared, every shoulder felt

and the knot comes loosen, I can now breath, slowly.

I miss and remember every single one of you inequaly and unfairly

waves of emotion mixed with memory capricious and temperamental

linking it dearly to my fading sanity

a blip, an anomaly

for I am the villain in my own personal hell without cause, there I said, I admit it.

do quite detest how bitter I woke up today but the shakes settle,

the hours dive, in. not quite special

nor haunt, nor want.

radiant it was not what I had envisioned. 

the pulse in need of purging.

is it up to us how to feel?

as the dust settles

ground to bone shouldn't mix

to give up blood to sand

the fabric of time does not apreciate death friend

so choose happiness instead.

the drink we shared as the sun settled

there, further, up, on the horizon traces

mere replica but it felt quite real.

the frustration grinds like a blade to skin

slices away with abandon known reversed to the Sun

and those lost at sea. 

a half baked therapy consumes air like toxic waste

makes the very ground shake with weight, a hurricane we nickname catastrophy.

the word feels final, the ground feels wrong and somewhat that weariness is familiar. 

stranger things have occured outside, the open door a warning sign I suppose

we were unsure where to step and we must have step something Off

should it blow will be it close? am I too late to turn tail without conseguence

to go without It. the very saliva tastes the bad type of funny

a mercy forsaken, a wave that bounced into the sand only to be swallowed:

do swallow everything. 

today i sat and counted time

i do mind and it took a while to keep perfectly still and numb

to crawl back into a darker hole where futility has met tranquility

in pefect harmony

the burden cracks under the tear of fear

or so I believed, lost in the memories

that twinkle, blink back and cause me great confusion

blurred emotions, some say we cannot quite quantify reality

but this sure feels pretty darn real to me, stripped of dignity

what is left is ugly and contorned in shapes I unveil forcefully

mea culpa;

I broke my croocked guardian angel neck,

torn apart, didnt bother attending the funeral

I wore red today

no more torment in the basement, it comes out on the weekend

I estimate the remainer of my sanity free flows like the wind

that calls a name that is stuck both ways

it comes and goes like treasure that we easily abandon and forget

only to immediately recall at the 11th hour we crave the teddy, the lover

that now trumps gold,

this suffering for vanity

is unjust, unworthy of the blind

those deaf to the calling

fuck off shall we

I am going home, my bed my throne

rid me of this games, gods and lords

humans and the likes

for this is not how I choose to feel.

my mood is grey today, everyday.

drink to good health,

every once in a while

platinum on my window sill

below the nest ring and all

misaligned by design

though understandable so

some talk of imbalance and particles

like apes can be made of atoms,

criticize, disconnect the power at the source

differ the light, take the fire back to the gods

the struggle was not worth the cost

I see things in a want for desire,

flashes both bold and white, blinding.

riot was the cure, my bed the bait

hear me out like the flow is gold

tore apart by river flow, chasing after

brutal only made harder by finding out

the shine comes undone once you drown

for you never let go of the mighty heavy weight

a pour down from a sober man to a fellow fallen soul

a castaway begotten by horror, I just had to make it through gravity

do define agony.

//////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

MY HOUSE  CARRIES ANIMALS BONES

UNDERNEATH THE GROUND NOT THE CELLAR

THE ATTIC KNEW DECAY AND DESERVED BURNING DOWN

PRIDE WILL CATAPULT US FARTHER THAN THE RAG FATHER

BUT ONLY IF I DO NOT REACH OUT FOR THE NECK

A COLLEAGUE MOURNED A MOMENT OF FLEETING CRISIS

A GOOD SOUL IN BENEVOLENT SADNESS

TAKING UP ARMS DESPITE THE SOLITUDE

A TRUE DIAMOND, CORE AND SURFACE ALIKE

MY FEAR HAS TRANSMUTATED

I NO LONGER FEAR WHAT YOU WOULD DO

BUT RATHER WHAT I WOULD DO

TO STAIN THE DISTANCE THAT I SET WITH THE PAST

IS A FLEETING DAGGER, A TRUE DEATH SENTENCE.

I recall a wiser friends words, soleem in the wisdom

of how powerfully he apologized despite not being at fault

a vehicle for change, arms at the ready, open and welcoming

I tried and therefore failed to get away from myself,

my mood is grey today. everyday