my lungs have grown stale
waiting for your breath of fresh air.

Memories. Phantom impressions mutating with every pass.

This was all only wishful thinking.
Looking back confirms the present.
Your memories are only scarred impressions of last year
regrown into the ugly manifestation of today.
right now, that is your anti-depressant.

Glimmers of hope: shots of bittersweet semantics.
the proof burns its way down.
I'm drunk on nostalgia.

Induce the Narrative: The Discourse with Death

Dancing along these thoughts. An hour passes by in the haze of a minute.
Sever these sober ties and drift into oblivion, navigating freely.
Exploring yesterday with ghostly impressions.
Throwing sail to the wind. Push through mundane cessations.
 Time holds no constraints here.
Cognition roams, lacking fear.
In throwing out the map, shedding expectation.
I become free; lucid and truly.
The night is yours.

A cloud so loud, so peculiar. Why must it speak to me?

I run with the clouds day to day,
molding behavior from clay decay.
Lost in thought.
Preoccupied with existence and numb to the indifference,
trying to derive what was taught.
I'm lost in thought.

making connections,
some stick, some hold.

ideas lost, revelations
some new, some old

Adrift in a formless sea,
thresholds no bounds
episodes of brevity.

flux wash-out.
grasping water.
kinesthetic loner
shes just his daughter.

My skin is a language ostracized
from reading the holy text of nature.
The real essence of reality
that which I cannot see
incidents of brevity,

what is life without deaths shadow?
meaningless and hallow
one in the same
neither can go on without the other's name.

pages dampen
ink runs
say goodbye to your brother
memories fade, there goes another

Foam overtakes

Lost all consciousness.
returning,
vague white puffs.
a deep yearning.

last sight, ship to sea,
a symbol so familiar and carefree.

for an instant of subjective, you witnessed your perspective
flash before your eyes, breaking ties
rejecting the animal collective

you will come back to me
the days may pass, dismal blue and empty
but, as the wind cries
you are set free.

On the mind wandered
living eternally,
this is how
clouds are pondered