I loved him for this reason alone: that his passion could meet my own intensity. I wanted to know what it would be like to be loved with the same intoxication that I could feel for another. (Could it not be said that I was in love with my own love? That I was intoxicated … Continue reading Tidal Wave
I'm the wound that never goes away, the scar where humanity was cut from the side of the divine and has been blindly searching for home ever since.
Sometimes I hold my own hands and they feel so small tiny as an infant's so tiny and so fragile And yet they feel so old so ancient full of deep secrets and unspoken fears slender bones of unknowable strength covered in a fine veil of such vulnerable flesh These hands have penned many words … Continue reading my hands
I am not the 99 I am the 1 who left your side I've skipped town and if you want me back you're gonna have to chase me down break my legs, carry me back So go ahead and do it If you love me here's your chance to prove it Otherwise it's just me … Continue reading not the 99
the breakup breaks down to a breakthrough of breaking the uprising is an upswelling of your uppermost limits an implosion of explosion shrinking in and tearing out a voice swallowing itself while screaming a vessel catching it's own spilling they call it awakening: the fine edge of death and new beginnings
There is only Right Now No past with its failures No future with its accomplishments There is only Right Now with the me that Is. Right now I am the dividing line between light and darkness The hovering of a spirit not at rest in either world I am the struggle of mental power that … Continue reading there is only Right Now
How many people live inside of me? How many pieces form my identity? All my different parts bickering back and forth Some are hiding Some are sleeping And some just won't stop screaming I am both the orchestra and the conductor I am both the cast and the director And after awhile, it feels so … Continue reading mediation
I must let go for the truth is I hold on to nothing See here: I am but a clenched fist grasping illusions which promise satisfaction but only leave me more hungry than before Where does the illusion end and reality begin? Somewhere inside my palm. The clenched fist knows nothing but rabid desperation But … Continue reading clenched fist