question burning, cries
answer me before I cool
urgency insists
quickness passes for wisdom
deep thought waits outside the door
paper catches fire
while we search for the answer
ash erases words
haste thins what truth might have said
the quick answer lies ill-formed
the hotter questions
leave far less time to answer
asking feeds the fire
burning time on more questions
until doubt devours the clock
fire lights up the words
bright enough for us to read
while it eats the page
what fire destroys can still speak
through embers buried in ash
time is not the clock
for time itself is the flame
it burns while we ask
what became of our answer
left in ashes asking why
Scared Mary,
Unprepared Mary,
Incomprehensible yet strangely legible,
Outside of the box in isolation Mary.
New Mary,
Old Mary,
Realities are a kaleidoscope,
Always big vision and big picture seeing Mary.
Spontaneous Mary,
Boring Mary,
Gifted the role of everything and nothing,
Multidimensional experience Mary.
Cyclical Mary,
Unpredictable Mary,
Goggles ethereal with physical on the side,
So strange and unable to be normal Mary.
Selfless Mary,
Selfish Mary,
Fiercely loving and Protective to a fault,
Contradictory and human at best Mary.
Celibate Mary,
Desperate Mary,
A Biological Divine combination,
Big impact but small blip in wider space Mary.
I am oversaturated with a single emotion
When in truth I really had none
To begin with
Do I really know what is love
Or am I just blinded
To have someone
With only me to think of
Is timeless devotion what I feel
Or "unsought" adoration ?
Do you feel the same
Or was it just me all along?
Should I scream from the pain
You tore me up
Piece by piece
Left me on my own to collect them
And the pathways of my mind
Are forever scratched with your name
Is it really love
Have I turned blind from your pain?
Do I really mean something
Have you thought about our future
Or was it just me
All along
Daring to dream of us together
Should I feel wrong?
You made me heart feel like it's back home
You condemned my soul
To feel what it's like to be known
And at the end
You left all of it alone
Is it okay to feel shaken
Okay to feel wronged?
I'm not really questioning us
I'm just asking
Was there really enough of us
To actually begin?
QUESTIONING ATTITUDES-:-
conceiving
anticipated
obduracy
typically
perceived
with AFFECTIONATE EMPATHY
harmonised
endlessly
gestures
effectively
stated
in IMPARTIAL ANECDOTALS
fascinatingly
extolled
commonplace
everyday
verbiage
i like the way she smiles, but all girls talk about each other like that
he smiles at the way i laugh, but frankly he’s just not my type
and i want to love a boy in the way i love the sea
but rather than falling in, i just kinda sink
is it supposed to feel this way? like im lost in a tidal wave
the current’s pulling back and forth
i feel i might snap in half, but when i look in her eyes everything seems fine
i want to love a boy the way i love the sky
i want got be in cloud nine, not just passing by
and i want to want him more than anything my heart wants
but when the truth comes out it’s the moon that he’ll find
i’ll never love a boy in the way i love the moon
so human, far, and flawed, everything i’d loose
in a boy’s eyes im nothing but a seed
maybe i’d like to sprout far from the sea
a tick of your distant heart
and for me the wheels go spinning
golden spires in evening breeze dip
and you, gripping, reach to the river
what do you see
with your hunting eyes?
what tastes come
in memory?
i see only peace all about,
your wings of splendid silver filigree
tail tilted to the setting sun
many suns within your heart of hearts
do you know i forever run toward you
and to all your dragon friends?
do you feel me smiling laughing
my joy my welcome?
Uncertainty follows the wishful star
Wanting to follow up the 9 heavens
A heart scrawled on the screen
A thousand prints writing the scripts
100 TIMES I watch the show
Drifting through life's woe
Dancing with a song of hope
But each ending inexorbly slow
I reach for echoes that do not stay,
names that vanish before I speak.
Doors I once trusted swing shut,
their hinges remembering only goodbye.
Every promise carries the dust of others,
every smile asks if I am enough.
I press my palm to the cold glass—
does anyone feel the heat on the other side?
Yet the wishful star still burns.
Even in this endless pause
its light says: you are seen.
And for a breath, I believe it.
A bee drags through glass—
soundless, just the pane
tearing, like a caul.
Belief becomes the thorn.
I asked Him once. He turned His back.
The leaves fell —
Everyone can be a critic.
Few can take criticism.
I’ve seen the results of youthful play
The paths half-buried of sandy ethics
The holes and pitfalls of reliance
Mounds of dirt clods and chocolate chips
Success tastes so fine –
Like a drink of ice cold water
On the last lap of decision
‘Cause we are all infinite genius
We know what we know –
Because we intended to be ominous
We have all the answers –
For our same redundant questions
So don’t point your finger at me
Waiting for a solution
To your petty-proud, little-lot life
My knowledge will pierce your pupils
Blister your lips
Bruise your belly
Crush your pride
I am a steel-toed construction boot
You are an insect
Don’t play checkers on my chess board
It’s a risk taken with a master madman
With a proven method of interpreting your ideas
Full intentions of beating you
At your own game
In your own home
Give me a reason to frown upside down.
Oh Seigneur,
Je n’entends plus,
Je suis un pêcheur,
Avec mes pensées absolues.
Où êtes-vous,
Ne me laissez pas toute seule,
Êtes-vous dégout,
Avec mon engueule.
Prends pitié,
Même si je suis damné,
Même si vous ne pouvez pas le justifier,
Avec votre ton suranné.
To ponder or not to ponder - that is the question.
Is it a waste of my precious seconds, minutes, hours
To dwell on the questions that plague my mind?
I spend my waking and waning hours mulling and considering,
Crashing waves of question marks and possibilities
Dance around in my mind's eye, quelling the beast of sleep.
A skeptical girl's dream is a paranoid's nightmare.
The mind wanders the winding path, ways blockaded by the
immaturity of age's eye. Paths extend,
arms outstretched, sclera comes into view. I enter the land
of darkness and trivial trifles, numbers rapidly rising.
To observe then look away - oh what a gift.
The fluttering, juvenile gaze upon life offers a plethora of privileges.
A jovial demeanor, an emaciated ego, a blithe smile -
charities that are given to the majority.
The plights that plague me are mere afterthoughts
in the meandering mind of the thoughtless. Idealizing,
reading, puzzling reserve themselves for the
fragmented, slightly distorted. And now I must
ponder, what the slightly distorted
save themselves from.
Hey Universe
Why you coming at me so hard?
Did I do some sht to piss ya off?
Or you just playing some evil part?
Its all getting kinda rough
Im not nearly tough enough
To get through this & come up
been kickin me down so much
Im bruised & lumped up
in every possible spot I can touch
I've already accepted i got no luck
But seriously, like what the fck?
You Actin like a fckin schmuck
When all I ever be asking for
Is acceptance & love
Got me questioning what i did
that was so wrong?
Sht been so bad for so long
I just wana finally
find where I belong
I wanna smile forreal n not
Have to fake how I feel
Breaking down every day bc
I cant deal
An honestly idek if
All of this is even real
...I hope not
When God said
“Let there be light”
Was it meant literally or metaphorically?
Did time arise crafting the photon
with the intent
of illuminating the basis of reality?
An observational lens providing the closest assumption of truth?
Or did the limit of human consciousness take precedence.
Therefore, implying we needed to be saved from the void of ignorance,
as light is the transference of information.
So when God said,
“Let there be light”
What was actually said was,
“Let me share myself with you”
And so it was.
I am scared,
Totally confused
I fear the worst
Of the world this time.
Why did this happen?
Why oh why to him?
My sweet baby brother.
So young is he,
I cannot understand
Why this does happen.
While muscles may grow
And the heart beats harder,
Too hard, it beats.
Trouble has started.
I wish that this would end.
So young is he,
To put up with this life.
Too full of innocence.
Why all this strife,
Why my baby brother,
Whom I hold so dear?
Why does this hit so hard?
I am scared for him,
Though he may not understand.
I hide all this fear
Behind a mask at my home.
Why him Dear Lord?
Why the youngest of us?
Why the one whom hast been through the most?
Why do You seem
To hate us the most?
Why does it seem like life should fall?
What did he do to deserve this fate?
What did this little boy do to upset You?
Why God?
Why?
Free falling into chaos
always seemed like child's
play to me,
something so natural to descend into
I could call it
breathing.
To allow those inky, black tendrils
to seep into every pore,
every mark,
every imperfection.
I called to it like a master, of
my own darkness,
my own death.
I willed it at my command,
and while it has accompanied me on
a very long, and somber quest
I wish for it to leave me.
Only, it remains in the morning
after I am sick to my stomach from
numbing myself with shadows that cling to my skin the night before.
Have I made the mistake of turning
my affliction into an unrequited
love? Have I held too tightly onto
this thread of hope for a savior
when I know only I can save myself?
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