These secrets I forgot to mention,

They hide & seek within my mansion,

My mind, a house, a labyrinth unattended

Why do I chase the full moon, with no intention of ever catching her,

Perhaps my life is a race with the universe,

Why is it taking so long to win?

Seems like a lifetime ago I was chasing the stars across the sky as they fell,

Not afraid to die now, I chase ghosts in my cemetery of memories.

Seen the sun before but I anticipate her rising now,

Brightening up the world with the Rays she casts off herself,

Bioluminescence at its finest, her core molten lava.

Where will my life take me next, maybe the moon?

Light filters through the lush tops, leaving an aura of green to behold, the morning sun accentuating their beauty

I walk amidst centurions, their strong standing bodies telling me of a history before my time, and I wonder, how many beings have stood in this grove and thought of the same beauty as I.

The smell of life and purification, lending such aid to existence,

I touch the bark and thank you kindly for all the air you've given me, most inspiring beings how I wish I could live among you.

Chronology crumbles, fragments, and splinters off,

Leaving time but an ever falling building waiting for its collapse,

No certainty of its end, no certainty of existence,

Just decay

So many infinite possibilities to the line of time, many highways nearly tangled together in a mass of contingency,

Where will we end up? The beginning or the end?

When we wake up, will time have been only a visage of a life once thought lived?

Unknown soldier,

You fight for my life,

And we've never even met

How do I simplify

The sacrifice you make

It blows my mind

You fight forever

So I can fight another day

Turn back time,

Don't fall behind

You leave tonight,

Breathe the breath of life

As others sit at home and cry

We wait for you to arrive,

I hide the hate inside

For leaving you to die,

A life so black and white

How many will never know your sacrifice...?

Shaping,

Creating,

Writing,

Souls immortalized in construction

Pieces of self sent out into the world,

Our expression of the universe inside,

The most beautiful parts of suffering and feeling,

Total chaos creating abstract perfection

Artists and art,

Like brush and canvas,

By building their inner thoughts they build themselves and turn out to be pieces of art in the end.

Death dealer,

For one more day,

She's come undone,

Streams of silver,

Blue moon,

City of bones,

Pit of vipers,

Close encounters,

Memories, dreams, reflections,

The asylum for wayward victorian girls,

Captive witness,

And then there were none...

Stars,

Each individual, light years away, observing my life from space, watching me flash by just as they do.

Cool breezes on rooftops,

My late night coffee keeping my hands warm while he lights up my eyes, matching the stars above

Our walks through the park,

Your hand fitting mine like a lock to a key

We stroll along under the soft moonlight, you pushing me on the swings, stopping to give quick sweet kisses.

My solitude

The many hours I've driven in the dark, the illumination from the radio the only light in the car,

So many fresh breaths of air with my windows down

The night, my escape from bright criticizing lights.

Drifting,

Looming,

Sitting amidst the moon

They float and glide across a starry expanse,

Witnessing life at its true waking hour,

They puff by and glance at the world, taking in the many moments in time that no one else sees.

Flit,

Flow,

Sail,

Cosmic sailors of the night.

My life,

The sometimes permanent, ever-so-often erasable ensemble of lines and shades that create my image to the observer

On exhibit,

I collect the views of the world like dust on old books,

Shaping my curves and lines to fit self perception, I hack away with my eraser, defining my image into a mix of society and ones own being

Edited here, erased there,

I become a work of art,

Abstract and inspiring, but never completely chalked up to one universal definition

I am ones own desire, turned into canvas and transformed into a story for everyone to tell different versions of.

Living expression of a self less met by society.

The sun shines, illuminates all

All but dark corners and patchwork shadows, leaving cold places

My heart takes refuge in the shade of the world

Passing gazes leave impressions like music notes from a quietly stricken piano,

Tiny tunes follow me until I have a full concerto, remnants of reminders about my third party oddness

I paint pictures of my life with words, sometimes creating the wrong scenario that becomes put on display like the main sign of a business entrance, informing incorrectly of what lies within

Push and pull until I become us instead of I, fragmented, individual parts playing together like a stream of smoke rolling off a blazing situation.