Must

“One mustn’t fret, but instead breathe. Fall into the void of life. Smile, hands up. Embrace the ride..”

“One must ground daily with the percussion of the past performing. One must be here, find it wherever you are..”

Bug On A Wall

“Bug on a wall, doe eyed, pressed to a window, steamed and well, comfortable..

I handled the last storm.

I’ve been meeting people who look like me again. I must admit I’m timid and shy to approach..”

Diver

The fire is live in me

I see the flames as they shift into you

One more time

The diver of my feelings

The hair on my arms dance for you

We remember

A moon cycle glanced your way

You made promises you kept

How I resent you for that

Shadow Snake

Too slick to trust

A shadow snake

Still I dance through the teeth of fate

I beg the God with bloodshot eyes

Could I strike with the soil?

Can I rewrite my sky?

Forgive me now, or let me go

Forgive me—flesh and stone

Tryna find my way alone

Truth don’t come but confesses

Still learning how to break

Behind tints possessive

Possessive Eclipse

What will linger when I’m gone
If time erases everything
Are some things meant to stay
I wanna leave an imprint
You’d try to forget me
But where will you ever find a ghost as haunting?
Stitched beneath your skin
A whisper in the bones

When I Go

Hold my love when I go

Sing him tunes of eternity when I go

Heal him tightly when I go

Bless him while rising when I go

Sow him with peace when I go

Promise new lovers who dance till full

Does it exist I wouldn’t know

What feels real is felt low I am told

Hold my love when I go

Thirsty

I’ve perished

They told me so

A few times

I’m tongue tied

A thing in the undercurrent

A hole in one

When I woke I was thirsty

An insatiable existence

I know I’ll be punished

I know it’s a sin

Made of Moon

The river split all too soon

I was made of moon

So I spared the connection and tuned the loving beast

Who chips it’s nails to soften the beatings

Source

These wings don’t flock

I am not forced by any wind

Ungrounded from the land and molds

Behold everyone, the individual

A pure source

Pure eyes

A soul who’s unknown

Doesn’t quite belong anywhere

Found in anything and everything; every being

Haunting

Smokey listeners

Reaching for the shallow limbs of black

They sink and wail to discover life

And so I remain, printed and somewhat flaky 

Together, forested in fictions

I lie to myself when I stretch out of the hopeful comforts

I’m picked as bark

The dog days are quite holy; haunting 

The body was muddy and dug out of void

Being, holy as well

Peer through 

Identify me, then leave me to be, leave me alone

As I grow feral to the moans of cicadas 

I will touch the golden skies in faith

The ones I indulge in and tell stories about