You and I, we feel the same thing. Coated with this milky fear, this abnormal existence.
Oh our silly wisdom apprehension, touching time with knives. We are going to cut ourselves eventually, and wish we had of just played with spoons.
You and I, we feel the same thing. Coated with this milky fear, this abnormal existence.
Oh our silly wisdom apprehension, touching time with knives. We are going to cut ourselves eventually, and wish we had of just played with spoons.
Im starting to admit how much the last two years has impacted me. i believe i was denying it because i wanted to have risen above it, shrug it off like i was impervious to it.
i think the greater power lies in being honest with oneself.
either the way, the affects will take place and when that is more so accepted and understood, the better starting point you have with dealing with it .
Wird press this
I appreciate you wanting to get to know how it goes –
that carnival in my brain.
But you can only eat so much cotton candy in one day.
You’ll read this again,
and you’ll be frustrated again
I’m like a train that has the caboose on the other end of yours.
Keep running after your sandwich,
you won’t get enough of the cheese
until you do.
And then you’ll be sick
for quite awhile.
It’s okay dear,
only the strong mess around with my carnival.
The Christmas spirit sure drives moving anchors. Im grounded but I am growing. Time will fall out of its cabin, like I will crawl from my cocoon. i am not waiting for anything to click, i am just choosing celery over poptarts on a regular basis. i must instill patience. Even popcorn takes two minutes to become its edible cloud puff.
Internal electric does its course and i can be the source of forward moment. I just have to be best friends with Time .
You are the soulstice to my ever glowing nature. The soulutions I find in my everyday.
Your soulfullness resonates in my bones, that warm laundrified fuzzy blanket against bone skin.
How soulganic we are in our soulitude. You soulidify so much purpose in my being, that soulving kind of souldier, dedicated not to beat the problems, but to make them understood.
The absoulute of my breath, the consoulable feature of all teddy bear grub.
My resoulationial feats when I get stuck in mind mud. I’d stay in isoulation with you, fuel ourselves with our gasouline and live in the factual heat. That all of this means
you are my soul mate.
You don’t owe me anything
and I’m mad because you don’t.
Sweat against my cheek I can only see from Monday mornings’ light
I am calm and found right now.
I dreamed last night
and not caring to shake it loose now, I just sit with it.
Inside that dream I would like to be
but inside this life
my tools and I
can make that dream
a reality.
Your being is closer, the sapphire fragrance of your inner child stands tall among the adult reeds. And my hands dribble through the adequate possibility, catching the stickiness of the long stems between my fingers.
Making sense of today, the future.
Tell the ones in the hills,
in the far across mountainous range.
The sky is flat here,
and flat ribbons across the blue
clouds of fury and a calm and of silk.
These are the days the sun waits for
pounces on a puff and gets taken away.
She doesn’t have to drive,
just take the ride
watch everything float away.
“Can you wind message me?”
he asked, with pre-drip eyes.
I was leaving, he knew
at the next sunrise.
I smiled so softly
even teddy bears would be proud,
as I blundered on a “yes “,
a “for sure “; to him this I vowed.
And so I would kiss the air
every evening and day,
wipe my miss tears on feathers
“I love you “ I‘d say.
What consolation,
to have the leaves wiggle back,
a grin on my cheekbones,
two feet on one track.
It wasn’t long after,
when the journey was done,
he smiled a thank you
“for the whispers “ dear Mom.