what comes after

before all the spatter

collecting all the pieces shattered

now it’s my habit to doubt what really matters

broken ends of a viewpoint

which direction do they gather

what comes after

bleeding pen

shut you out of my world

for I’m doomed to what you’ll reveal

lessoned learned

from your presumptions

burned

i confine my soul to this

soak in sadness and wonder off in distress

twisting and turning every word into a mess

unfolding frantic stress

induced madness

i bear myself in this

awaken my sayings and put them to sleep again

ink bleeds from my pen

eating disappointment

i hate this dusty place!

…as I wipe my cheeks with grace

shall I erase my distaste for this unsatisfactory slow pace

recharge then refrain from making the same mistakes

but i made them

didn’t raise the stakes

disappointment escalates trickling down

forming bitter-sweet dates

so…

i ate them

tiny jewel box

have you seen my heart

last place I peered was unclear

initially unrecognizable

suddenly appear

concealed with care

delicately in a corner it lay

in a tiny jewel box

a narrow-trimmed ribbon of gems lettering a paradox

caution

almost too tiny to stare

four corners surround

as mountains grand

who dares to stand?

my appendages extend

outward

for you to see what lay there

you attempt to glare

but give in to stare

silent apprehensive anticipation

you dare

extending and gasping for air

but then…

away

it flies into thin air

released into freedom's domain

carefully concealed yet again

...with you

pathetically transparent.

putting genuine on like a skirt.

not realizing that

everyone can see that tattered slip,

loosely hanging far below the hemline.

next time, just be genuine.

then, you won't have to put it on.

daydreamer

are you still here?
i wish you were near.
though I feel you are there.

so close and aware

that my unknowing

is a thorn in my flesh.
constantly appearing in my subconscience.
creeping into my most vulnerable.
incomprehensively intolerable

to wait
another moment to see.
until I slip away,
in the deepest part
of my processed thoughts

and tell you like it's never been said before.
and i say it again.

right now
in this present condition of mine
feels like an eternity-
scrambling through things to find
you.
just a glimpse of you.
to hold on to
features
you possessed
when I saw you last.

do you still feel?
everyday
i do.
glance into the past.
try to make the present
become the now.

create a future

with you there.

silly! it's not the same.

Your voice on media. Expressions unsounded. Not because you aren't willing--you don't have the voice to sound them Out Loud. Evaporating attempts leading to exhuastion. Silently screaming and shouting your existance--your profoundness.

Speak Up.

an  i n n e r  d r i v e  to be creative in some fashion emerged from early childhood... dance, painting, writing, laughter, elements of surprise. it's a constancy.