Feelings

My heart A red clock, a construct of the human experience, Beats like a cleat on concrete and can’t help but not relate to the grease beat of chill trees, swaying with the breeze Aimless trees, and they’re asleep For moments that don’t linger More than a second too long And they will pass… Much quicker than beer or grass can grasp Because every minute casts off its dawn, To a lawn of littered experience But here I share the thoughts I bare Shouting, “Feeling, feeling!” Me and my hair are constantly reeling At what makes my blood so red And everything else so black and dead Like the platform on which I prostrate this human mind… I keep pushing and pleading, breathing And feeding my life through The loop of a needle Weaving myself into My final tapestry Even as I’m shoulder deep In humanity And even in the absence Of a colony I know that this sea is where I’ll be Whether I choose to escape myself And explore someone else Or remain here in my constancy… In my bed of river stones Built to be alone, or see Whoever god delivers me I pray for that man… He’ll carry my honey suckle season Impressed with the scars on my hands and yawns in my chest, He’ll fill my cup with water like wine and will hold me high and say that “it’s fine…” “Even when feelings rage… We’ll know that whether crying or caged They’ll be alright… Best friend, hold tight Time is like money, it’s meant to be spent Not vaulted with fear To waste Unkempt..” He’ll say, “Feelings are fine but as long as your mine Your feelings can’t steal you away…” I wait for that day…