Perception Obscura

I believe I know everything. I know I don't. But I think so. This is the constant, the war between insecurity and egotism. I know I will fail countlessly, but I do what I can not to. I feel like I have to show the world my greatness. I have to. I am miserable, maybe that's why I work so hard to show why I am so much better than everyone else, artistically. I try to find a saving grace, but there is none. I am who I am, though that's not a very good person to be. Growth comes. Sight blurs amidst the line where positive and negative meet. I just do what I can. Most of the time it is not enough. I am more intelligent than most, which leads to terrible habits and traits. I'm not better than most, but I am. I'm not, as a human, though. So much further to go, I doubt I'll make it there. Thoughts, emotions––inflected yet not intelligible enough. Never are. I would like to be able to describe it all. However, there is not enough vocabulary, nor am I aware of how to do so. Life seems to be that way. Attitudes, knowledge, idiocy, love, hate, feelings: a combination of all––and more unnamed. Desperation, loneliness and depression encompassing self. The ever-consuming sphere. Break away from it, find the exit. But it's difficult to do so. Almost impossible. But here I am. Progress. Movement. Growth. I'm here. I'm here. I'm here. The resounding chant. The door is open. Walk through. Go.

a search for meaning in the birth of confusion

it's like you look up and you see what's not there

there's a chaotic symphony playing along to your footsteps

seconds fly by and you can't even stop anything. 

what's coming has passed

it's just bewildering. one moment you're sitting there and then the next moment you're blinking

a lash drifts to the floor as hours move by

you can't get that lash back

and then there's a star in the sky and you look and the TV isn't even on anymore, 

it won't power on

it's like a walk in the woods when the wind is cool degrees

I can't even explain how life is

who can?

it’s unreal

why do we constantly thirst for illusions passed?

there's a wall of filmic images playing on repeat in the eyelids

I don't even know where to go

but I have to say something

I can't just not know

dwelling on irony unexplained 

there’s so much depth to the sense of feel

you hold soul in your palms

we envision all that is and all that is not

all that could be and all that never will be

it’s like laying on a cloud of hollowness 

you know you’re going to fall 

but you live for that fall

curiosity doesn’t kill you 

you kill curiosity 

you kill every darling 

only to wish to resurrect them 

forget-me-nots don’t blossom here 

the seeds of profundity have been planted 

yet they are never reaped

we fail to sow what matters too often 

I do

when you stand on rocks you see the world in full view

but you never plunge 

sporadicalness is your best friend

it haunts you 

blood can’t be tainted 

we mix liquids of insignificance 

can purpose be found?

can it be taught? 

we try so hard to seek out the definitions 

but darkness swallows whole 

regurgitating every ounce of what little dignity we have left

you can’t mask sorrow 

you let it live on your face 

you let those lines mold your outcome 

you fight the outcome 

there’s a twisted sense of self-righteousness 

we’re self-absorbed 

I am

a self-centeredness so revolting 

the mirror degrades 

but it’s important 

we must understand our image 

we never will 

but we try 

you see the expressions in the crowd 

an implosion of a sense of self 

all reaching for that last saving grace 

the last drips of your water gently pour onto your tongue 

finality is fine-tuned 

you hear life’s harmony 

the flutes toll for everyone 

there is no ringing 

time is soundless 

silence bursts into existence 

the shades of color fade

shadow always survives 

in the end, we see 

everlasting totality shines 

let the void crumble 

shed the insecurities 

but never forget their impact and necessity

bathe in bare essence 

you are born. you are dead. 

but you lived

that’s enough

we hope

hope is insufficient 

a falsehood

I'm not always right

unfortunate truth 

truth: that's what should be found, constantly 

a sacred honesty 

I watch the pores of my skin grow impatiently open and through them I see doorways to my demons

I walk on the surface of a tempered sun

yet it flares with intensity when the occasion calls for it

it is time

plummet into that beautiful and horrific mess.

there's serenity in the despair 

your chaos is accepted 

make known the conscious and unconscious

and now you can begin...

actualize. 

Interpenetration

Scattered fragments of bliss compounded with pain.
Memory fulfilled.
Nighttime ventures ended by the splattering of daybreak.
You cause the metaphysical to crumble into beautiful ruins.
Splashes of your essence stain the landscape of our experiences.
Your scent is infused into the stratosphere of my existence,
lingering like a morning mist
My surrounding is a garden of your blossomed affection,
never withering

Veins bursting as you rush through,
like an overdose of morphine
My mind is flooded with images of your composition;
a longing to conjoin our madnesses––
descending in unison like the hues of a sunset as dusk approaches––
Let us crash and then rise again.
Our canvas is painted by the colors of passion and amorousness:
A representation of rapturous abstract and complex temptations.

I not only need you, I want you.
You are the foundation of everything that makes sense.
Life without you is not a life but a hell.
Your presence is necessity.
You evoke all that is good and genuine.
You are vital to my heartbeat.
Place your hand on my heart and feel it.
Let me take your hurt; cover me with your darkness
so we can escape it, together.
Everlasting comfort.
Take a breath and be. Simply.

Appreciation of the Fire

I wish I could show you everything beautiful about yourself that you can't see.
The flaws that reek of imperfect perfection.
Your soul shining through your eyes.
That's an image I can't believe I've been blessed enough to have burned into my memory banks.
There's a pain beneath your glow I wish I could comfort.
I wish I could erase the consuming self-doubt.
Demons falter in your presence.
I wish you would believe this.
The magnitude of your influence unmasked.
You changed my life by simply being in it.
I wish you could see it.
You are the reason life is worth living.
Not just for me, but for many.
You are worth it.
You are deserving of a life truly lived.
I wish I could give you what you deserve.
I would give you the world and all of me, but even that wouldn't be enough.
You deserve infinity.
I hope infinity finds you.
All I can give is words.
Words that will never be capable of bringing your powerful existence to light.
You are indescribable.
You are embedded in my delicate consciousness.
And this is where you break free.
Accept and love who you are.
Because you are life.

Prism

I miss your voice.
When you speak the world stops,
and everything else is faint.
Only you are in focus.
Perception is narrowed to all that needs to be seen.
The only sight that matters.
The only soul that's necessary.
Being around you is something special.
Daily life consists of carrying the weight of 100 selfs on my own shoulders.
It's unbearable.
But when I'm in your presence the selfs dissipate, cease to exist.
It becomes freedom from all dead weight.
Listening to you talk is the most beautiful thing in life.
Laughter flutters from your mouth
and brings your welcoming essence.
Lifting me into the stratosphere.
Happiness resides there.
Scattered speech and thoughts
float through the clouds of emotion.
Little by little,
I learn you more.
A continuous pleasure.
I miss not only your voice,
I miss you.
Maybe it's not the end.
But if it is, I'm thankful for what was experienced.
The ultimate shaper of spirit.
You are the artist.
You are existence.
You are the sound that echoes, endlessly.
Beautifully.

Trek

The infinitude of shadow and light flowing over the soul. Surmount your journey, or it surmounts you.

Petrichor and Placidity

I feel that life is at its truest when it is nighttime and there's a strong downpour crashing outside. Rain brings not only the deepest, darkest, and saddest thoughts to the surface, but also a calming acceptance of everything happening to oneself. It's strange because it seems to make the loneliness I experience so much more significant, yet it helps to make me not feel so lonely simultaneously. Emotions become more potent, longing becomes more bruising. It brings a sense of completion while showing exactly what's missing. It's an odd paradox. Nature has no intentions other than to just be. If only being human was as simple. As people, we can't just be, no matter how much we say we can or how badly we try to; there is just so much more to it. But when I look at the dark gray clouds painted over the black sky, feel the moisture floating through the air, and listen to droplets of water shatter against land, it provides a certain understanding. A comprehension that causes me to realize that I am certainly lost, but maybe that isn't so bad. Stuck in a cycle: a constant state of uncertainty encountering inquisitive nature. So much has been learned and so much to be learned; every joy and pain felt; the lows of depression and the highs of vitality, all experienced in equal measure. As self-reflective rain can cause me to be—in the worst and best of ways—it is an absolute necessity. It is an honest peace.