Something is coming

Sitting in the dark you can feel yourself slip away. Sinking deeper into the darkness. Hands reach out and you feel them wraping you in their cold grasp. Deeper into nothing you fall and without sight you know nothing of this threat. When your eyes are closed you can see into the darkness and when they are open you see nothing. Those moments when you feel a chill or feel like you're being watched. Those are the times when this something is closest. Breathing in your scent and following you quietly along in the darkness. Feeding on your energy and pulling from you what makes your breath. There is something coming and it is coming soon.

Forest song

I heard the still air around me move. Swaying from side to side. I could hear a faint hymn playing through the slowly moving air. A light melody breaking away into the darkness and dancing with the moon. I danced and in that moment I was alive. My hands moved with the wind and I was one with the ground. Stomps of my feet kept the beat. Dust and dirt rustled up from the ground and created a haze with the light from the fire, moon, and stars. I carried on like this for a while changing the pace and style as the song changed from slow to fast and slow again. The song only ended with the Sun's rise and my fall. Back to earth, back to dust.

Here Before

Once the tide was red and the moon had devoured the sky. We were on the shore and we watched it all. Colliding sky images of beasts from the past and smoke and screaming souls. We built a fire in the night and watched the cloud movements, the tide changing, and our sudden changing perception. We were swimming in the energy of the sky and earth. We were the indigenous people that our civilization built their lives on top of. We were fractions of a whole and we were strong. We carried ourselves across the earth to where we had all begun and we rested on the ideas we had placed in our own heads.

The beast in the mirror

I looked in the mirror and what I saw was not me. Generally, my flesh does not splinter and tear. As if a great beast is bursting out in an attempt to escape from my soul that it has clung to. I can see an aura around myself in this mirror and it is not the one I was born with. My true aura is of good nature but this one that I see is evil and dark. It is as black as the night without the moon and stars. This is why I loathe everything about me. It is this dark mass of chaos energy that is inside of me. It twists my ambitions.and makes me think and do things that I once whould not. This thing inside of me is making me brittle and breaking me down into nothing. I fear for the end for I have seen it in the eyes of this great beast.

Sleep...

Let the sleeping man lie. His head is being filled with what reality can not provide to him. His dreams carry him away from the things that cause him harm when his eyes are wide. The lights and flashing of the outside world brings tears to his eyes and he can't handle what is out there so he sleeps. All day and all night. He doesn't cry out in fear for in this state he is safe. This was his escape. Eyes close and the world is gone and in it's place is his own land where things work for him. No crime, no law enforcement, no evil, no good, no death, no life except for him. He is the lone figure in this place. Him and him alone in a world where things are always one lie from unraveling at the seams.

The owl, the bear, the wolf, and the tiger.

I got lost in the forest once, fell and hit my head. Lost consiousness and woke up in a strange place. Blurry vision formed hazy outlines of great beasts standing and lying around me. Into focus my eyes could finally see in detail what they were. A menagerie of beasts. A bear, a tiger, a wolf, and an owl. They all took turns whispering in my ear making sure the other three could not over hear.
"I am the wisdom in your mind", said the owl
"I am the goodness in your heart", said the bear
"I am the hatred in your soul", said the wolf
"I am the courage in your body", said the tiger
They all said what they had to say and left the area to which I lied. From that day on every step I took was in unison with theirs. The owl's wisdom, the bear's love, the wolf's hatred and the tiger's courage was my guiding light to which I would follow.

Day dreams and reality

I never sleep so what are these dreams that my mind creates? Am I in a constant state of day dreaming. Morphing reality and its every speck into my new world. I take apart the day and put it back together my way. Is this why I can't sleep? My mind is always filled with these pleasant and sometimes horrendous images of my reality. They keep my mind buzzing and I am constantly trying to escape the hive. To sleep, I'm sure it is a marvelous experience. To close your eyes and forget everything. Is it really that great?

Humans

These are the days we cashed. Turned to ashes and tossed away. Ran into the ground by our actions and driving us increasingly mad. We a race that can not hold each other in an embrace but yet we wear the blood of our brothers. The oceans are our tears and the clouds our dreams we can not touch. We a race that hides intentions and decieve the heart and mind. We a race of unloving fools who can't see past the wool pulled over our eyelids.

From the wolf's mouth

Sheepish lambs and false coated wolves.
Bearing teeth but hiding their claws.
Prowling, forest runners.
Setting eyes upon prey and sinking teeth in.

Decomposition

I struck with stones and watched you decompose. Your color faded and you turned pale. Seeping back into the earth and breaking down to simple minerals. Dead and gone your lizard skin. Back to the earth, back to the start.

Atlantis

I drink the marrow from their bones
and into me they crawl.
Sink into the ocean.
Thrown out to sea.
How about a swim
and at that moment we will escape our capsized ship.
Find me here.
Take me there.
Atlantis. Tie me to the stone pillars.
Leave me out to dry.

Deep in the trees

In my dreams I have one pair of shoes. Not two but one. I don't wear those shoes though. I simply walk past them as I leave out the door. The thorns and rocks cut my feet as I walk but that is not important. What is though is where I am walking. Where I walk will rid me of all my cuts and bruises. There I will find salvation. Deep in the trees.

Elements

I want to walk to the ocean. The Pacific of course. Barefoot and miles I will walk to reach this destination. I will pour my elements into the sea and let myself go and join the world and it's forever revolution. I will turn with the Earth and will see the wonders of the world. All seven. Maybe more but I will come back to this spot and be content with what I saw and will forever have the image imprinted into my head. This should be a ritual of the human race. We all need to see the Earth for what it is and only then will we as a race see each singular soul hiding amongst the trees. Our eye site will carry past where we usually see and we will see the underlining reason of why we breathe.

Question

If I wait in the darkness, can I expect to find the light? That's a dumb question. Nineteen. That is how many years ago this countdown began, but for what? If I stand in the rain can I expect to be dry? Once again, dumb. Then what is it that I'm looking for? Why does every answer lead to another question? Damn. Paradox. I can wing this all and fly blindly into the cloudy sky and ask no questions but...Lead up to another question. This will continue growing if I let it. I just have to ignore the ones labeled on my left wrist. Two, one is upside down. Why are they there? My choice. An ever evolving question turned upside down will always look the same. It is still the same question, just a different angle. This was never about a heart or how it turns and changes. Taken literally, they are my answer. Why should I justify these answers? It still persists...damn

Monkeys with siren screeches

There once was a boy with short brown hair who lived his life from day to day. Though from those day to day phases he felt confusing emotions that he could not explain. These emotions often tore at his soul and he often had trouble keeping track of his own thoughts. He sought refuge from all this with three monkeys. Each monkey had their own instrument. One with a banjo, one with a bass and the other with a saxophone. These monkeys played tunes to soothe the boy's soul and over time he sought more from the monkeys. He wanted them to rid the boy of all his troubles. His every fear and problem to dissipate with the sound of the monkey's tune. So they presented him with a box with a latch and told the boy that every one of his problems would disintegrate with the opening of the box. What's in the box? Only opening it will reveal it's inner treasures...

The sheep and the wolves

I can feel it. The feeling of losing control I suppose is the most accurate thing to call it. It has been a slow process but I can feel my skin begin to peel back and the beast is becoming more prominent. I have lost myself. I used to live by the ocean's shore but now I find myself running head first into the forest. Branches hit my face and thorns cut my feet as I pass by them. It is almost unbearable but I am sure of my survival. These scars are petty marks etched into my skin. They are prominant but I pay them no attention. I guess I can deal with the ever evolving beast inside of me. Though, I must say sheep and wolves should not be neighbors. I won't complain though.

Losing the waves

I lost site of it.
My goals and aspirations.
I will find the sea.

I love the breeze...

I sit on the edge of the forest and the waterfall and write this. I traveled far tonight. I sat in the forest and drank from the sea. I drank for ages upon years and all at once I was pulled from the shore and deep into the forest. I sat and waited, reaching and outstrected my arms to the glassy vial that held the ocean. Yearning for it's hydration. A soft hum at first. Breaking the silence into a rythym coming from the trees. I ate the leaves of the trees and hoped for their knowledge to pass from them to me and then into my soul thiers. I wanted to merge with the wind and be carried through the leaves. I love the breeze but my mouth is so parched.

A tree in the woods...

The tree. The one I see in my dreams. I find myself thinking of it when I'm awake. I think back to my visions and feel nostalgic. It's like it has been years. At night I thrive on it's energy but during all daylight hours I am drying up inside. We spent so much time and I became who I am by it. I would soak up it's energy and it would feed into me. I need that back. Day and night...

A tree in the woods

I go to sleep most nights and wake up in another world. My dreams. A forest, the landscape. I walk the usual path and end up in the heart of the forest. The heart of the forest is an old and tall tree in the direct center. I sit under that tree for the remainder of my dream. Deep in thought. I wake up the next morning and feel invigorated but filled with entirely new questions.

Hope they don't drown me...

I miss the destruction. I used to thrive on the obliteration of everything around me. I have that same old feeling. The yearning for destruction. I've always been a mess and right at the moment where I think I might clean up I start to get dirt on my clothes. I guess I should face the facts. I can't keep a grasp on my ever changing reality. I put on the face of composure and act like I understand every thought that I would think. It seems I've become more and more complexed by them lately. I can't label each individual thing I think as thoughts. They always seem to morph and evolve inside of me and then I become troubled by them. These thoughts are what was leading me to destruction. What I thought was surpressed is now breaking above the water line. Hope they don't drown me.

a room outside...

I can feel my focus shift. My head is throbbing and all I can do is grasp around in the smoke and fog. I'm in a room...that much I know, but the size of the room is beyond my perception. I've been here before. Walking in this room but it is different somehow. Maybe it is the fog and smoke. It clouds my vision but there is much more to it than that. I have tried to find the walls with hopes to find a door but no matter how far I walk, none are found. Maybe I'm outside...

I used to

I used to do a lot of things. I used to dance in the middle of the forest. Under the moonlight I would dance to the sound of the leaves and the wind. The moon was my disco ball and I was the waves moving with it. I used to swim in the ocean. I would dive twenty thousand leagues under the sea and open my mouth and let the water rush in and flood my body. I would always wake up the next morning on the shore or with my face down in a pile of leaves. I used to be destructive and my world was almost destroyed by my path.

So far So close...

There's thousands of miles between you and I but all the while I can see you on the other side of the street. Staring at my bedroom window, wishing and hoping I'd come outside, but I never will. I will always leave you out in the cold and I won't give you an umbrella when it rains. The drops fall close to your face. I've counted them. I watch them wash you away.

Burnt Bridges

We all go through changes. Our views on life, our clothing style, the places where we live, and sometimes the way we look. We as humans change and evolve to mold to our surroundings. That is a universal fact about the human soul. Though, sometimes in life when you're crossing a bridge, hand in hand with someone who you're really close to you find that you've evolved into enemies. You see things for what they really are and either one or both of you decide to burn the bridge keeping your lives connected and just like that they're gone from your life entirely. Now at the time that separation seems so logical even border line genius but what of the days where you're left with your thoughts. You think back to what you were and how things used to be and sometimes you start to see things more clearly. Your mind is evolving and everything is become clearer. What of those days? You start to feel regret and sorry for everything that was said and done. What's a man to do when he finally, after so much soul searching, understands what it is he wanted from all those people he cast off? He could seek remorse and show the world that he as a human being has changed and evolved to something greater but sometimes the world just seems uncaring. Burning bridges is an act of the human heart but the worst part about burning bridges is sitting on the other side looking at what you've lost.

Holes in the sky

Something spectacular happened today on my way to work. I was driving along when something in the sky caught my eye. Holes. That's the simplest way of describing it but there is something more to it. Of course holes in the sky are not something you see everyday yet there they were before my eyes. Black holes...a sort of spiral consuming all color and light around it. Sucking it in like some vortex of sorts. They were laid across the sky in no particular pattern. Some areas more dense then others and some scarce with this scourge. I watched in awe and wonder as the sky was eaten...as it was consumed and taken away to some secluded location where it was disposed of. These holes will soon take the sky for their own and I fear for what follows after...

Crystal Water

Here we are, laying ourselves across the beach, strecting as far as we can. Our hands held tight we stare out at the sparkling water and how it sparkles. We are in awe and are taken back by the brilliant shimmering liquid. As we look into each others eyes we are struck by the same idea. We walk towards the edge of the water and bend ourselves over, cup our hands, and let the water flow into them. We raise the water to our lips and drink and for that split second we were alive. The liquid entered and coated our mouth and throat and it was cold like ice daggers. We repeated this process numerous times and thus we were cleansed of everything. Past was past and we were the future. We were anew.

This City

We look out over the city and we see the lights that comprise it. Like little stars laid out across the ground they form orbs and twirl across the land. A shiny canvas. This night all we see are the street lights and not what lie beneath them. The scrummy streets and garbage littered sidewalks... Tonight, the world seems pure like diamonds and it reflects light across our skin. This city it seems is something I took for granted but I've found new perspective I do believe.

Rooftop

We can lay out and sprawl ourselves across your covers, stealing the occasional kiss. We could lay like this and look up at the ceiling or from the other side, the roof...It's all perception I suppose. We could look onwards and gaze deeply into the white barrier and if we looked hard enough maybe just maybe your rooftop would pull itself back like a can of sardines and we could see what it's been hiding. The stars. We could see so much from where we rest our heads. We could paint a picture with what we saw and take it back and show the world. These pictures would make us millions but we wouldn't need it. We would put it away...Deep in the ground and from that seed a tree would grow and atop that tree we would build a house and in that house we would live. From this treehouse we could see the world and most importantly the stars. They could be our neighbors and if we're lucky they would let us borrow sugar or let us use their pool. We would be happy and the stars would be our new rooftop.

Brand new faces

It was simple. Nothing past complicated though it had a simple complication that was refreshing. Brand new faces. Turning my head to shade my feelings and what I was thinking. Catching the occasional side glance. Eye contact brought brand new faces. Every moment a new face which brought new ideas. Refreshing and sporadic. I was beside myself with excitement by the idea that these faces brought. My face was changing with yours.

I only want to talk to you. You and you alone little space orb...

I want to talk to you. I just want to gaze deep into your eyes and see your soul. See your purpose... see everything. Is that asking too much? I want you to show me the universe. I've watched you from afar for ages and I want to join you out there. Have endless adventures ending in countless sun sets. We could see the world from the front steps of your house. So come back to me. Pick me up from the same old spot and take me with you. We could just drive. Drive on forever. Don't hide behind the moon. Show me your eyes ay?... Don't close them when I need you.

Where's the broom?

When did I make the change? When did I decide that I was going to become this. I loved everything about what I used to be. I was blind but I loved that I didn't know a thing. That I was safe in a cocoon of fake walls. I'm in the final phase. I always fashioned myself to be some sort of pennical of human. That if everyone could reach me on my tower that we would reach a clear consensus. That we were fine now and that we could move on...But that made me what I hated. I told myself that I wasn't one of them but deep down I was. It keeps resonating. The past you know. It always does. A pebble in the water creates a ripple effect that keeps going for years. The future and present is just riding those ripples made by the past. You can't just forget the past. I know that now but what if the past is blinding. It flashes you with its brilliance and you are stunned by it. You are stationary and you can't move on. Your stuck and you don't know what to do. We all wish for it. Simplicity... We all wish that we could just throw our hands up in the air and scream FUCK IT but life isn't a thing like a roller coaster. It's not on a designated path or track that carries you to your destination. Life isn't as people perchieve. It's not as easy as they say. They're...we're all fooling ourselves. But we're only fools if we give up...

And if I lost my hands?

I, like most humans, use my hands for many things in my daily life. I use them to hit the snooze alarm, to pull the covers off of me in the morning, to bath and brush my teeth, to eat my breakfast and to drive myself to my daily tasks. I do things out of the ordinary though. At least they are for me. I use them to dance. I use them to sway with the music and to create patterns of smooth shapes. I write. With my hands of course. My words are my message and my way to reach out to the world. I was never good with social situations so it's easier to write and if someone happens to read it then maybe they'll know me... I wonder sometimes. What would happen if I lost my hands? I would be nothing and I would have nothing. I would have no purpose and I would be a shell walking through and making the movements of living. I would be ordinary... Maybe that would be better.

Metamorphisis though I fear the butterfly

Change. We ask for it we crave it but what of the outcome. What comes after? Is it what we wanted or what we needed. Will we regret pushing for change? I change. I am human. We as humans adapt and evolve to conform to the environment. We are as the animals in nature fighting for survival. We let our primal instincts take over and our humanity is gone. We lose ourselves in our metamorphisis but isn't that the point. You have to be lost to be found.

Shining Bright

The lights were crashing on the floor and causing zig zag cracks to form and eat up all the people. I cleverly danced out of reach of each crack. Jumping from side to side and swinging my head in rhythm with the beat. I was safe even in the face of imminent danger. This was the night to end all nights and I was gonna put everything to rest. Goodbye to all the angels that lured me in and left me crashing on the rocks. This dance like state was shaking off all fear and I felt alive. I was sick of leaving the atmosphere only to parachute down to the Earth. I was ready to leave a perminent indent on the sky. I was going to join the fiery orbs of light and then I would feel warm. I used this girl I met in the back corner to succeed in my attempt. She wore her dark hair down in front of her face and her skin was a pale white. The light danced across her skin and she shined as if crystal shards had been implanted into her skin. She grabbed my hand and dragged me into the danger that I described above. She ran her fingers through my hair and I felt alive. She was there and I was there and everyone was dead but us. She was my new muse. I could see it in her eyes. She made me want to sing and dance and fuck and fight. In that order I believe or all at once but does it matter? All that matters is she helped me forget everything. The past was irrelevant for we were rewriting it as time traveling super heros with a cause. She was forever and I wasn't going to crash as long as she held my hand. I was gonna join the stars. Shining bright.