Tomorrow is too late.

"You never look me in the eye"
echoed through the halls of my being
How could I ever tell you,
it was always an eclipse?

Now I understand;
Never was there a worse notion,
to shield than to burn

Our bodies nestled like dolls
I will radiate; but i cannot touch you
Nothing is permanent.
not even save memory
We permeate the air

I asked the moon to reveal your location
last night on my window ledge
She stared back as to ask
'Where is he not?"

I've been wandering with no particular destination
contemplating our last eclipse
what did the paper say?
about your astral projection today.

But knowing damn well
Tomorrow i will be yesterday's refuse..

I reach out still
Shiny and new every morning
Hoping one day
the stars in my eyes
are still worth some token of luck

we were born (the natural beginning of a life cycle)

Once i decided to pass my heart along what i thought where white sands
But it wasn't welcomed to be received, it fumbled to the ground and shattered into a million shining crystals in the sand.
And upon impact i lay my head down and tried to scoop up the pieces, like miniscule opals. In frustration of their multitude and hopelessness of being swept up by the relentless tides, i wept. it appeared as if there was no time, no life, nothingness while the tears cascaded down into the sands shining.
And then a remarkable thing happened. one day the earth itself seemed to warm underneath my body, exhausted from ceaseless, silent defeat. i lifted my head level with the sand and was surprised to see that instead of the grains of my being have been swept into the ocean along with the shining sands, pearls and shells as often occurs, the pieces were growing. they had sprouted as seeds do and reached up towards the sun, entangling with one another into two shimmering vines.
At first i was frightened by their beauty. thoughts erupted about the inevitable occurance of the vines shriveling and decaying in a cycle typical with life. convinced the world would poison them, stunt them, stamp on this beautiful thing which had came from such suffering, i thought perhaps i should be the one to cut them down. handling this loss would be too much.
Instead I nutured the growth. i watched the vines intertwine and sprout buds into something wild and free. all my pain had subsided as it grew taller and more vibrant. I thought about the tiny opals which started the new life, out of sorrow. And then i realized that was the day we were born

Cogito, ergo sum

Don't get it confused.
The end~
it's actually the beginning.
And this whole time,
you've been sprinting,
stumbling
away from your own salvation.
And guess what?
All those truths you've insisted upon reciting to yourself
lies
fallacies.
Believe it-
or don't,
It's really up to you..
And as for the blanket you insist upon shrouding yourself in?
Well, It's devouring you,
eating you alive.
And when you are drowning,
drifting slowly to the bottom
well, that was your baptism.
So wake up.
Smell the sound and tempt yourself with fear,
it's the finest of delicacies.
And send your love to Shiva the Destroyer.
Rub your face deep into the mounds of shit you have created.
And..
take a good, hard look at yourself.
You're not real.
No, You aren' t there.
And you are so damn beautiful.

Sleeping with Ghosts

I can’t catch air
Surrounded,
You know I built this cage
I gave you the key
And you know you dropped it
Amongst the billion other keys
that look exactly like mine
In the same salt…
It was written all over your face
It was streaming all down mine.
The billboard I rented
It said;

Special trial tonight!
Money back guarantee!

And how the hell was I to know;
What you told me a thousand times?
You know disbelief was never my strong suit..
Yeah I believe.
For the first time I believe
Please let me believe?

And when the stage coach transforms
I’ll sure as hell ride that pumpkin with you
Run the streets barefoot,
singing to myself
I am something beautiful…
Lets make something beautiful
Lets be something
again

Metamorphises is so Blase

Yes, he's come to eat your food
to mock your god
to break your heart

So bury your hope deep in your chest
out from the cave he named freedom
he's hungry again

And by all your accounts of enlightenment
you lost the world
in a shoebox under my bed

Darling, nooone really ever was special
and your mail-order salvation-
it's beginning to ooze and fester

He's crawling back to the womb
choking on the universe