This Kinda Talkative Is Bordering On Lunacy Clearly Overheated Synapses Lazy Caps Firing Firing Firing

I make people burn Apparently And shake Shake down Through You? It could have been you It could Still Be Still Tonight Just watch the light From a million years ago Gently illuminate The face of the moon Brightening your eyes As the ground you stand on flies Through nothing But this is our everything It's all.

I'm finding that as I get older Getting older feels divine Now I don't believe in the divine There's just no better word to describe The feeling of age in my mind Now sun is dead ahead And the road is behind. I'm being blinded, Is this the cost of freedom? Too much coffee And not enough sleep Black. Light. Spots. Peaks don't help when Stars are staring you down And December is no place For tinted lenses

On my way home...

Have you ever Felt so... Ethereal? A part of yourself And a part of nothing In touch but unable to, All that is you And all that is everything Is not anymore. Have you ever Watched yourself From the inside, An out of body experience Yet trapped in your own. Disconnected control Of your own self, You are you. But barely able to feel And yet remaining fully aware Just, Dulled Numb To all that is. Danger lies in that stillness Like quicksand It becomes hard not to sink To fall into And embrace That sweet nothing Because there is no fear Just a vague sense of acceptance Without question or answer

Death threats

If your gonna take him, take him, If you’re gonna leave him, leave, But please make up your mind, Because I’m starting to find, That I can’t take these fucking death threats anymore.

Burden

I am sick Of the knowledge Of your thoughts Of the potential decision That you could have made Of the responsibility You place on me To look after you The finger That you point at me The moment I don't The moment I'm not there The moment I take for myself I stand accused Betrayal they say Disrespect A lacking love The noose around my heart The dead weight on my shoulders I cannot give in Or give up I do not sell myself as a hero Or even a good man So do not blame me For when I do not do What's right by you. I am sick Of the knowledge Of your thoughts Of the potential decision That you could have made Of the responsibility You place on me To look after you The finger That you point at me The moment I don't The moment I'm not there The moment I take for myself I stand accused Betrayal they say Disrespect A lacking love The noose around my heart The dead weight on my shoulders I cannot give in Or give up I do not sell myself as a hero Or even a good man So do not blame me For when I do not do What's right by you.

Do I exist if they no longer see me Am I the tree In the proverbial wood. Do they forget what they no longer view In the stream Like the fish within the herons shadow. Do I leave their thoughts Like the night As soon as the sun has risen. Am I out of my mind When I am out of theirs Was I out of mine To leave.

I stand and lean

Against

Ancient granite.

Ancient by the standards of my short life.

Another waits a stride away

Seems this is the place.

Who knows how many have done this

Who knows how many will after I'm gone.

She takes a step closer

And fixes her eyes my way

I look up and smile

She's looking past me

Which I'm glad of

This is a time of leaning

Not of interaction.

She takes a step closer

Still looking past me

We wait together

Though entirely separately.

I reflect as I write

And watch the people pass by In this cool, clammy heat.

There's no message here

Just narration.

Always bring a knife to a gun fight, or any fight, life is a constant fight, bring it to that too

Pack for every Eventuality Fill your pockets with Golden survival Stuff knives in your socks  Fire in your hands And jerky in your briefs And pray Pray they come Or this'll all be for Naught And if they do Turn out  Offer them an Open hand But don't forget to Arm the other

A final question, begun

"Shall we begin" "How Fucking Dare You?" The beast, enraged by a seemingly random and unfounded accusation, snarls, fangs bared. The boy, not understanding, much like the beast, what has been asked, but presuming the worst, cowers, and pulls himself up onto the chair. The man, dumbfounded, just sits there, and stares at the painted man, as if querying the query, with a slight tilt of his head, but otherwise his face portrays no emotion, once again stuck between his two companions.

Breath

She's only happy in the sun Or in bed My bed We inhale Hold Exhale Push our souls out Through our mouths Share the light And the darkness Share the space Between our touch Feel All there is Care and care not Drifting with purpose.