No Turns

The Knight unfound is lost amid faces sunk into our ground.

Show me, hear me, I beg, I plea. May I stay, dare I flee?

Will I show you, will you see? You’re here, after all. Come to see my fall?

Guide my heart, little star. Show me now, is it far?

Where do roads go past this scar?

Roar of days ancient fire twist ‘round my finger, twisting mire.

Will I show you, will you see? The knight unfound, with sleeping bee.

No matter the path I take from here, all is peaceful fear.

“No turns, next 50 miles”, no burns, no smiles.

Knifes edge highway, follow your glowing skyway.

No lines to cross, just uncomplicated direction. No bumps or humps, a subtle detection.

Loops with no condition, quiet night’s introspection. Pain’s stealthy blight, black hearts affection.

Forward or onward, a decisions resurrection. Temptation, a courageous heart’s great imperfection.

Take these wanderings, mind disinfection. Born to fly, gravity’s harsh interjection.

If only to hold, this glowing recollection. Fear the fear, this long disconnection.

Above and below, both paths reflection. Do I see, or is this just my predilection?

I am unclear, even my own objection. Guide me along, proper deflection.

Homeless.

I’m not saying I'm happy, because in some ways I'm not.

I'm not saying I'm sad, because really I'm not.

Its complicated. Homeless and fearless. My place was taken out from under me.

I'm just falling. Where did my net go? Here I find someone has been cutting holes in it for years.

Mindless holes, with only a selfish thought. Taking wicked pleasure in ever snip.

Finding your worth like the vampire and the cat. Sucking and feeding, tricking and needing.

Middle ground, sitting down. Maybe the race is over, maybe its just my three leaf clover.

Come quick, little gun. Signal start of all the fun. Let us be, let us run. Let all this mess be done.

Moon.

Rises soon. Twelve Days, little maze.  Find the end, let us sin.  Mate with date, its just a date.  So soon, rise little moon.  Save me, save me, Please?  So soon, little moon.
I need out... Even with doubt...
I weigh so heavy, burst the levy.  No more walls.  No more falls.
Rise soon, my little moon.

Empire of Dirt

There is something about the hurt that calls to me. I can’t help but wonder why, but its true. The broken feel so easy to understand. Their lives are dramatic and quiet, they see things in shades of grey. Its so easy to be someone’s color. Am I like this because I really care? Does this make me a good person? Or am I just as hurt as they are, and it is my own insecurities that make me feel this way? So easy to be beautiful when your backdrop is dark and chilling fear. So easy to glow in the darkness.

Sometimes I feel like I am wishing to be a mess. A unfulfilled complex of victimization burns in me. A specter that never really leaves my side. I used to dream, I used to wish for it. Maybe then someone would notice, maybe then someone would care.

Most days that all seems crazy, most days I cant help but think I have been the greatest fool. Bad news for people who like bad news; two o’clock and all’s well. The good times are killing me.

Some times it strikes me, a specters shadow and I just want to be hurt. I call for it, I see it, I feel it as the hot copper zeros in on insignificant gray matter. Sniper’s sweet goodnight. My mind goes blank and I imagine someone just pulled the plug: LOADING, please wait…

I draw a breath and then another, and its all back as it was, naked and unequipped. Empty, wondering where my stuff went off to. It’s a gesture of a reboot, but rarely does it quiet that voice in my darker soul. The one that can’t let get go, the one that feeds on the sorrow.

What is my background then? I wish I knew anymore. I used to have so much to say, I used to have so much to feel. Have I gone past that place or has it passed me? I don’t know where the ladder is or why we want to the top, but I still can’t help but wonder if I fell off.

Broken shards.

Heartbeats glass. Long bloody gushes internalized, long dead hurts baptized. Crimson river dunk, sweet sorrow drunk.
Fragments with sharp edges, clinging on to cracking ledges. Spinning along, so small... we're all just nothing at all.
Election Angles, photon souls. What does that make us suck on the ground? Is anyone looking? Will we ever be found?
Big and small and nothing at all.
Big and small and nothing at all.

The bee forgive me, to the stars I apologize. But sorrow is not the same as regret. Never surrender, never forget.
Fight on my little faun, its only a spark. Nothing to fear and nothing is near. Rest your little head.
Right or wrong, just sing your song. Tomorrow's day is far away.
Tomorrow's day is far away.

Will it matter, will it read? Will it shine or will I need? Doesn't matter, little master. Just do it faster, do it faster.

Mean little Zot

Mean little Zot, tell me what your not.
Sticky for sure, a prickly snot.
Do you even know, have you even heard?
Wish it weren't so, but I can't say a  turd.
Not a little gentlemen, not a little kind.
Rough around the edges, not quite a find.
No excuse to be had, nor some passing fad.

Sad little Zot, tell me what your not.
Not at all proud, not with its lot.
Sad in his heart, confused and lost.
Frozen fire years, eyes full of frost.
Pretend to be a hero, wish for more then zero.

Sticky little Zot, stick with your dot.

Skree

Hello little one.

Im sorry I've been away so long.  Can I come hide with you?  Can we lay between the stems and stalks?  Never seen, little friend, always one to miss.  Never seen, little friend, come, can we talk?  Maybe just a whisper, maybe just a kiss?  Daily sitting under Flower, its the white one, the emerald tower.  Can I sit awhile?  Watch the sun go down?  When Sun falls below the ground, Mo will hold us, Mo will show us.  Dark blakets, so scure.  Another night to endure.

Come little friend, hide me in a pettel.  Come little friend, show me the way.  Hide together, little feather, another passing day.