Breath

There are days when I feel feelings I can not understand, or simply choose not to… things I feel and think which cause me to doubt and hide within the words I create… there are times when I am so tired I wish the world would slow so I could catch up… there are moments in which I feel the weight and fall to my knees…

I write these words with no purpose…

I look not for reason, for reason has led me to hide within these words, hide within my mind…

I look not for company, for all have forgotten to ask or notice… as have I…

I look not for shelter, shelter from the glares and ridicule as they come from the shadows of my expectations…

I look not for sympathy, for who can sympathize for one when there is no reason…

Tears can not flow tonight… the well is empty, yet shallow enough to be full

Thoughts lay silent, yet flow to my heart as I read these words aloud…

These words can hurt, yet they can heal

I sit now and wait… for the words I create to bring a filling breath to my lungs…

the breath I long for. the breath I need

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Listen

Can you hear me
I call to you
I am not near you
I am with you

In patience
In solitude
I am always here
Waiting for you to hear

What I would give
To be more than a voice
What I would give
To be heard
To be given the choice

As I watch you from a distant place
I look into your eyes
I look into your space

with all of this searching

you see not my face

We sit in silence
You never realize I am here
As I wait for you to see
I wait for you to hear

You and I

Shall be together

you and I

Always

forever

in silence

The Din

the clatter rings obsolete against the chaos blowing in the wind, only the throb of souls remain… what of the noise? what of the message? what of the purpose of this ribbon of knowledge which weaves its trail… gentle yet strong as are the waves and water of the endless sea…

Looking left and right with eyes shut and ears covered, she cries,”it rings so loud! it is deafening! I can not make sense of this tumultuous vision… vivid and thundering…”

She implored the storm which now surrounded her, “I wish this to stop, please let me hear!”

then there was silence

My dreams

I often speak to you as if you are my future, my life, my hopes, my truths… my escape… my reality.

Yet as of late, the nights have turned restless, fever rushes and sweat drowns my peace

As of late, the visions which fall bring not rest

As of late, the nights which gather make my eyes heavy with longing of nights which have passed

As of late, I sit in the corner and wait for dawn. Awake. Alone.


I have spoken to you so often, yet tonight I address you, directly, and ask of you to return to me.

Do not begrudge me my mistakes, for I may have taken for granted, but I have never forsaken my peace.

Please return to me

my future, my life, my hopes, my truths… my escape… my reality…

my dreams

I remember nights when I would smile and await the next adventure,

the reality of  life faded and  accompanied the shadows to rest.

The replaced image was one of silence and experience

This new uncertainty became truth… I remember the nights.

I remember the mornings when I would smile and try to capture every detail,

relive the fantasy, find that which I believed in, feel the freedom of all I owned… be that which knows no bounds… almost discovering the reflection in the mirror is all but a mirage… it is the real you

the fragrances of life, the tastes of air, the sights and sounds… all aware… all in there… it is the truth… I remember the mornings when my mind would comfort my soul

one day,

one day

your dreams shall

be real,

for all which is,

is all

In dreams

Empty Destiny

With each day comes forth new possibilities for happiness. We live each day as if life is continuous and we have no say in what happens. This is false. We control our destinies, we choose our lives. Whether to live the same or to make the change… to face a truth or to be afraid… It is a sad and empty destiny, if this is the path we take.

Emptiness is the consumption of will.
It is not the beginning that counts,
It is the return to the present that manifests life

All creativity must have roots.
All expectations must have matter,
All possibilities may become whole. If we choose it so…

My beautiful dream,
Giving way to sadness nevermore.
I’ve been wanting signs.
Waiting in fear.

I can not imagine falling way.
I can not believe in emptiness… even if emptiness believes in me.

Are we Lost?
Everyday.
Can we be Found?
Perhaps.

One day

Destiny allows room for error
All things will be shown at Time’s leisure
For we do not always achieve our destiny,
Others play a hand in fate
And Fate in turn,
Has its own destiny