Collide.

Collide.
Blinking lights, clanking sounds,
Sirens. Someone's hurt again.
Flashing images in my head.
Things heard that were said.
You made me feel safe.
You made me feel real.
When you held me in my bed.

Touch.
I'm confounded by the numbers.
The stupid coagulations we invent
To turn our cubicles
Into cell blocks.
We invent bars; methods of separation,
To dwell within the safety of alienation.
I look at you.
You look at me.
You see what you want to see.
But will you ever see all of Me?

Purgation:
That's not a word.
But it feels like Purgatory.
I'm good enough.
I'm true enough.
I'm skilled enough.
I'm Just-Like-You Enough.
I Am Here enough.

Progress.
Differences used to be met with blade, fire, and war cry.
So let's instead just swing the other way.
Create a colony of paranoid misers
And with your bag of shit, sir, would you like also some fries?

What to do...
What to do...
What to doo...

Eject.
Reject.
Object.
Project.

I project a better tomorrow.
Starting today.
My Way.
Ok?
Namaste.

Crown.

Look with me.
See with me.
Be free with me.
Be Here Now.

I have a new rhythm.
I heard a new rhyme.
Mint, mugwort, cinnamon, and thyme.
I concluded it was my Time.

Cords unravel.
The body breaks down.
Motion carries like a feather in the wind.
I can't stop my gut from making my ears pound.

Oh the Sound.
Do hear it?
Do you smell it?
I can see it; I can eat it.

My shackles are falling down.
Its time to Breathe.
Its time to Feel.
Its time to dust off my Crown.

Be Ready.
Be Real.
Be Raw.
Be You.

Do It.
Now.

Butterfly Diary Daydream

Know your kind.

Do you? 

What are you? 

Are you sure.

I'm not.

Not one little bit.

In.

Out. 

In.

OUT.

That's all I know. 

Do you know more? 

Know less.

Are more.

Are less.

Hot mess. 

Open your soul.

Open your mind.

Open your heart.

Open your legs.

Unwind.

Send yourself.

Through Time. 

Wind doesn't blow.

Sweat drips.

Slides down into a drop.

Drop slides down from the top

Of you…

To where?

Do you dare?

Get out of there.

Ha. 

Hahahahahaaa.

Get out of there, silly. 

There

There.
Suddenly I'm back there with you.
Just me 'n' you.
You're trying so hard to run me through.

The silent walls don't keep me safe.
Serenity, please won't you come find me.
Why didn't I see?
You weren't truly a friend to me.

Didn't know I needed so many things.
So many parts of me needed to come out.
So long I had marched though an emotional drought.
And all I want is to find a place where my heart can sing.

Sing again.
Some place where my heart can sing again.
Again and again and again and again and again.
Now I can.

Sometimes you gotta lose your step,
Lose your way,
Lose the precious "Everything's ok."
So that you can one day say...

I found my Way.
The Night has turned to Day.
I found Me.
I found We.
I found the Key.

Ong namo Guru dev namo.
Ong namo Guru dev namo.
Ong namo Guru dev namo.

Time Stops

Time stops.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Time stops.

I yeild to your hand.
I yeild all that has stabbed hooks
Deep into my mind.
When you move to me,
Time stops.

I flinch from your touch.
I hold my breath, lest you get in.
I've run so far and for so long.
Now trapped in a corner, its my mind you clutch.

How do you do it,
You who I somehow can trust?
How do my tired knees just slam to the ground
Whenever you're around?

Time stops.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Time stops.

Pain becomes pleasure.
I learn to receive it.
Your voice removes the mob in my head.
When you're done, all I can hear is silence.

You gag the mob of doubts, fears, hurts, and disappointments.
The mob of my scars and wounds,
That never got to fully heal.
I had forgotten how to feel!

Yet now under your serene gaze,
All else melts away.
You try me by fire and ice,
And I rise reborn - shining like the Sun.

Thank you, trusted stranger.
Thanks for helping me believe in possibility.
Because of your strong hands, cool mind, and warm heart,
I can again believe...
In Me.

Time stops.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Time stops.

Namaste.

The Game is Played Alone

I'm often quiet,
Though I'm also often very not.
Sometimes I think myself a riot.
Sometimes I feel I sit and rot.

In the past, I've pulled my hair out
Twisting and turning, writhing, and screaming,
Trying to discover what this whole Thing is all about.
Tears wash my eyes, leaving my face beaming.

I remark often to myself
Just how hard I try to find the parts of me deemed valuable
And the parts best left up on the dusty shelf.
Truth be told, in this game of dress-up...
I've found myself quite malleable.

I've held up each part
One by one for all to inspect.
"Is this the part you deem worthy?"
"Is this what will win me your respect?"

Its a game and a rotten one at that.
In which many a cynic and child quickly perish.
While others just grow ill and fat.
I won the game by finding what I, myself, most cherish.

The game is played alone.
It is You that decides your worth.
We each desperately search for honor to own.
Here's the secret to relaxing into eternal mirth.

You - yes, you - have to remember just one thing,
Which is truly rather concrete.
Recall that before the game you were complete - already winning.
And with your sense of eternal worth you were altogether discrete.

Understand that you will only be enough
If you, yourself, declare it so.
Understand that you don't need fixing or more stuff.
Your doubt in yourself you need only stow.

Love yourself, dear one; I submit to you this dare.
Darling of the gods, literally made of star dust -
Show up every day with all yourself to share,
And remember that within and without live perfect Love and perfect Trust.

Namaste.
Blessed Be.

My Road

I find all too often,
Far too often,
So much it makes me sick,
How easily I slip into forgetting
To stop regretting the Road I walk -
Remembering that its what makes me tick.

Its not always flat,
Not always straight up, down, or all around.
It curves and dips and flips.
So much so that I become addicted
To getting a copious amount of wisdom-filled tips.

How do I walk my Road?
Let me count the ways.
When all is said and done and walked,
No matter how gawdy or raggety the illustrious costume I tout,
The crown I wear for walking my beloved Road,
It all comes back to placing one Foot in front of the Other,
And breathing In and Out.

No one else sees me on my Road.
They only see me,
Wafting about here and there.
What on my Road feels to be a devasting deep-cutting blow,
To them appears as only a gashy tear.

It always surprises me to hear the questions
From those that know me and see me often.
Questions of how I fair,
As I stand there.
For though they see not my lovely Road,
They do on me see its wear.

No matter how small the gesture,
No matter how soft the touch,
When one acknowledges a shift in my demeanor,
When one reflects to me what they see,
Inside I take a knee,
And thank the gods that someone has really seen,
Me.