Morality


I’m aware of my morality

Of the fragility

That is unraveling

Before me.

 

Is life a pendulum

Of deliberate choices?

 

We all have the chance to choose right

And yet do we all have the determination of character?

 

What makes up the catalyst by which our lives are defined?

 

And what if, where upon we find that definite period at the end of our stories, at that precipice, we find the syncronicities in all the irrelevance?

 

Yes, our choices don’t matter, but the fact that we decided to choose at all defines us.

In indefinency

We did not stand idle by fate.

But held hands along side of it.

 

We were the companions of our presence.

Witnesses to our actions.

Our own host.

 

Spectators.

 

And though ultimately the definitions, choices , the sequences of what we can inadequately perceive as existence, don’t matter, it is significant to the consciousness that belongs to us, that we observe.

That we collect.

That we continue.

 

We had a purpose before we came here.

Our lives belong to us all, to share.

 

There is nothing we don’t know.

 

That we don’t see.

 

That we won’t remember.

 

Nothing that we can evade.

 

And yet, it is ultimately our bodies experience of our existence that decides our death.

We are only conscious to witness.

 

And witness we will.

 

In marvel we shall ascend

Into the experience of the end

As nothing but a beginning

That can not be fathomed in the physical

But not all things experienced

Are corporeal.

 

The body can not always rationalize that which all it witnesses, of energy.

 

And so death is the end of all corporeal experience, yet the beginning of all that lies beyond it.

It is in our physical forms nature to fear what it doesn’t understand, to survive.

 

Yet our souls, our intellects, crave more than what physical form can provide.

 

And so when purpose has been out lived, we move onward.

There is more we must witness.

 

More that is to be explored.

 

And so death and life are two world’s in one consciousness.

 

Two meaningless limitations of perception.

 

Yet there is value in the preciousness we provide for them.

 

For without their illusions we would not press to be.

And the womb of compassionate silence would cease to be.

That quiet companion would dissolve.

And in extension so would we.

 

Embrace the inevitable but realize it’s your nature in this existence to resist it.

 

 

Advertisements

Asthma


Taking in these particles of you,

That catch in

my chest like dust,

Such the pollen of flora,

That I choke on like allergies and asthma.

You invade my senses,

Swell my insides,

Steal my breath away like fauna dander,

With you I’ll need my inhaler.

 

Still I adore you,

And I must as ever implore you,

Be gentler, so that I may be gentler,

You are tough, loving your women rough,

You worship my sharp edges,

And forget these parts of me that are tender,

These finer parts that I must now engage in surrender.

I can’t bully what I can’t fix,

Can’t force air between the pollen,

I inhale you like another hit,

Hoping I’m not allergic.

 

-You treat me like I’m dramatic,

But surely you must know I’m asthmatic?

 

 

 

Closer


He filled me with love,

Then silence,

Then love again.
I didn’t set it against him,

His coolness was not mine

Only warmth, all the time
He would withdraw

Deep and alone

His musings were not my own
Then suddenly just as he left

I’d find him beside me again

Either joyful or bereft
I would wait 

Where patience wins

And give all my love to him
Whenever he needed

Whenever deserved

Til had he his full, serviced
Only then would I stir

And only ever to get closer

Ode to Joy


I love Kristian. 
Yes, I do. 
I love Kristian,
Through and through. 
I love Kristian,
Through harsh respites
I love Kristian,
Through the best delights.
I love Kristian,
Though I save face
I love Kristian,
With honor and grace
I love Kristian,
Anyway, anyhow
I love Kristian
Yesterday, Tomorrow,  Now.
I love Kristian
Anyway he needs
I love Kristian
And he loves me.

Undertones


In the haze

I envision burning my room 

away,

Removing all evidence of my

existence,

From the substance of matter.
I try to struggle to find purpose,

to stay,

It all slips through my fingers,

Falling away.
Late at night I can’t tell you how

I failed,

How everything I try,

I try not so well.
I attempt to rewire all the faults 

in my brain,

Only to find all the replacements 

to be exactly the same,

I can hear the voices so clear,

“Give it time!”
The longer I spend the less I find,

The less of me, 

The more I unwind.
Im clutching to the ‘I love you’s’ I hear,

When the memories come back

at me fierce,

They pierce and they sear,

Hurting all I hold dear. 
It’s trying to break me down 

every day,

All the bricks I build up,

It tears them away.
I wonder if they can see I’m not okay,

I wonder if it’s what keeps them

at Bay.

I tell you I love you like it’s the 

last I may say.

But you hear it like it’s just another day. 

Stricken


With a voice so eerie,

That the nubs of my nipples 

harden,

And ends of my hair stand on 

edge,

And the chill of nostalgia snakes

up my spine,

You’ll whisper in my ear like a 

ghost,

That nightly spell,

In the witching hour.
“I love you.”

Sucking the air out the room. 

With a feeling that’s stills time.

Some passion is so strong. 

It’s surpasses, past, present, and

future. 

Creates its own eternity of 

yearning. 
It never leaves. 

And everyone that walked into it’s wormhole.

Is stricken. 

Like I was stricken. 
Your invasion is a deadly force I’m haunted by. 
Day and night. 

The Nature of your Love


There is no description for your love blanketing around me. 

Except that it has melted the winter of my life. 

All the cruelty has been kissed to kindness. 

And I can’t remember anything but compassion. 
Anything but wanting to love you as fair as you love me.
Your love is like healing. 

Your love is like hoping.

Your love is living life anew.