My life

it spins

it does not flow

I wake each day

In vertigo

My books

keep spinning ’round

my head

I watch them

but they can’t be read

I close my eyes

then spins my mind

as if it has a key to wind

But ah

at last

the room stands still

But spin again

I know it will

Will we be back

when we are gone?

As someone else?

Do we live on?

Why are we here?

No scholar knows

Instead it’s theories

They have chose

Are babies born

to hold old souls?

that need to learn

and reach their goals?

Are souls

the tinker bells of light?

Just energy

in constant flight?

Are we really where

we think we are?

Or just reflections

of each bright star?

I fell into

the inner space

behind the facade

of my face

in search of all

I used know

not sure

which way that

I should go

I floated like

an astronaut

in weightlessness

I touched

each thought

and then

I realized

my past

was coming

towards me

very fast

like galaxies

the years flew by

too hard to catch

at least I tried

and when I

opened up my eyes

I watched them fade

to my surprise

I don’t speak

Its been a tough week

It’s hard to speak up

So I sit here quietly, I won’t interrupt

I’m scared of what people think of me

And it gets so hard to breathe

I could be standing in a crowd, they could be saying nothing

But their presence is so loud it feels like they are judging

I can feel this fantasy rejection

And just like wifi, I’m losing connection

They blame it on society

That it is the reason I have Social Anxiety

But that’s not the matter

Because I feel as if I’m about to shatter

And that feeling of nervousness comes creeping quietly

Followed by the rest of my anxieties

I am a really nice person but whenever I think to say hello

My self-consciousness comes in, and its something I don’t think I’ll ever outgrow

And I see judgment in your eyes

My mind keeps producing these lies

And I’m on a steady decline

that I wish I could define

My voice I do not own

So I stand here alone

Choking on my words

While I watch my tiny world burn

Before the dawn of time

When there was darkness

A moment where gods

& goddesses ruled over nothing

Not bothered with any matters

Until some said, ‘‘tis time for change.’’

Few gathered together

Debating over the deities nether

They seem to be contemplating

Many times over silly a thing

Saying we need to rule over

Plenty of land, and people, too

A couple nodded their heads

So, they decided to create

Worlds filled with magick—

Creatures quite lethal, some not-

Galaxies with stars that burst

With blinding lights of colour~

They formed mortal beings

And paused for a little while

To stare at all their creations

Marvel in awe at their works

They were ready to be a part

Of these humans lives

Watching in different forms

At all these mortals would do

In the lands & spaces that

The immortals had placed them in

Full of living creatures

Each making their own sound.

#CREATION (c)

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=jBiQCZd8UII

friyay 22nd Jan., 2021

It finally has registered in my mind, why

I’ve become so talkative when it is only me, myself and I.

So easy it is, without another rolling their eyes (one, whom, when questioned of this behavior, sings to me a song of lies),

To allow my thoughts to row swiftly down the stream, without the lurking threat of agitated, rejecting sighs.

A lean man with a bony face an elongated pointed nose, pale skin, lifeless eyes glimmering like two onyxes in the moonlight, silver hair falling in thin strands around his sharp jaw, as hard as diamond, could cut through stone like a knife through a stick of melting butter. This is what comes to mind when I think of silver.

She stands at my doorstep, frizzy brown curls, standing up on edge around her face as she stares at me with pain glistening in her crinkled charcoal eyes. Her bright red lipstick contrasts starkly with the state she’s in, completely disheveled. Her violet jumper hangs lazily off of one shoulder exposing fair freckled skin and the pale pink scarf around her neck barely hangs there in a loose knot, showing off irritated patches spreading beneath her chin down to her chest.

“Brian?”

I stare at her in complete silence before the reality of what she did kicks in and I shut the door in her face.

Took you long enough to remember me, mother.

“Brian! Brian, please open the door. I’m- I’m sorry I left you Brian, it was a mistake, I was angry and I didnt know what else to do I had nowhere to go,”

She begs and pleads but I don’t care. She left me with him. Someone who couldn’t give a damn about my life and what I was going through in college. Someone who drank his sorrows away lying under a heap of beer bottles, day after day drowning in himself, slowly and steadily losing himself and becoming a horrible, monstrous being who spewed the vilest profanities at me, degrading me to nothing. And I believed him because I knew people spoke their heart out when they were intoxicated. So he must have been right. I was gangly, and ugly, and stupid. No wonder I got bullied every single day of my life. I deserved it.

Can you believe I thought that same thing for 12 years of my life? What a waste. But not anymore. I’m free now. This old dorm, my best buds and my new job at the Pizzeria is all I need. Which reminds me, my pizza has probably gone cold. I check the box to see if its still warm. Much to my surprise it is! I take out one of the stretchy, cheesy slices and take a big bite. Heavenly. Its times like these that I’m ever so grateful. Even my estranged mother’s persistent knocking fades away into silence and the shadow beneath the door disappears too.

Good. Its pizza time.

The cat

Stares quizzically at the cat flap

A testing paw juts forward,

Catches an edge,

Slowly pulls the flap forward,

Paw down,

Catches the flap,

Head under and away.

If only he’d push,

It’d be much quicker.

How we make things more complicated

Than they need to be.

Next time the cat

Bites my ankle

To get me to open the door.

Much quicker

Damm cat.

#cat

Cherry streaks of heaven lend themselves on the glass like canvas. The water supplies warm-hearted and lovely winds and banter filled otherwise happily empty air. Engines hum across the way and embers crack their scent to waiting Pavlonial memories. I am here but I am also there.

I am young and very peaceful in the scene often a night. I have no idea what I am wearing or how I look… I am just there.

Nostalgia is a weary friend that fools us time again, and procrastination often filters out what we really could be.

It’s the waiting for a better moment that has made us lazy.

Not here though, not in my place of childhood Zen... the place I am always thinking of; where I am allowed to feel young.

The sun at times is bright and others setting slowly—and often not even in the equation. The water is cool whenever I touch it and the birds seem to always be ready to lend a voice to my vision.

You would think that all the things I love would be here with me but they aren’t and I don’t seem to miss them.

I draw them in at times- on my own to make up for slipping into old reminiscent vows of my own future that are now so foreign my head spins. There are people here naturally—but just the feeling not the tactile versions.

Stop. Hold my breath. That soul warming breeze and touring leaves rush by as I feel mossy ground pushing up to meet my feet.

I could go anywhere here and be free.

There is brightly painted grass and always, always the water.

Following it with mapped out footing I find my place in the sun.

I lay in the moments I am allowed to remember so thankful even for a second if I can stay there.

Hours go by and the smell never changes and the sky is still ripe with clouds. And they move. And I stay there.

When warm turns a bit cooler time of day and the cherry sky comes back I again find myself on the water.

Gentle rocking sleepily moving in a time I play again and again.

The day never ends here-- it starts all anew as soon as I find I need it to. How white painted wood and long lines of cotton can move me is comforting and solely understood.

I don’t need to be there long to completely be swallowed in a state that pulls me away. I stretch and I yawn and I pull back to sleep… visiting again another day.