choice

Paper stars

Paper trails troll troubling trends into contempt of the truth.

Discount viscounts will turn a rogue rat to a mouse.

No cheese, just smoke them out.

Blow them away with a flash sale.

Beyond the veil is a marriage of malcontent and a desire to fix.

Every troll has a bridge.

Who will hang who with the rope used to support it?

Will you pay per trail that you choose to follow even if it brings sorrow?

Will you step on old branches and leaves in the forest of tomorrow?

To scuttle as a borrower or play possum?

Stiff as the floorboards that formed your house.

Are you leader or louse?

Docile or doused in gangster or grouch?

Is it a straight fight for what you have inside or what you put out?

Sometimes those with those with the most beef will claim vegan for clout?

Sometimes we claim our walls are full of beauty yet we paint them with doubt.

Then we redecorate them and redecorate them until the paint tinge is all we are

So much more

 

 

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Answer

Folder: 
2017

I don’t think you want me to answer,

if I do you will leave me behind,

you have the world to play and I only have one piano.

 

I can frame what I feel for you with my fists,

love with only half a hand

when you’re looking down at me.

 

I can smoke you like I’ll never be sober,

risk it all when I fall apart,

keep half of your serenity.

 

I can only make your face fall when I answer,

give too much when I’m not enough,

leave you in the sky when I’m standing still.

 

I could want a road that doesn’t end,

I don’t know what I want, too heavy

when you’re looking down at me.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/29/17

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Selfish

Folder: 
2017

Tangled

messy

choices

your fingers mend with mine

your lips are my addiction

 

Can’t help

needing this

more than

I want to walk straight

 

Too many bridges

we can’t burn them down

we have so much fire

and no gasoline to keep us smoothed over,

we will cross this line

again and again

 

Tangled

messy

choices

I swallow you like the truth I can’t stop pushing off

 

If this is selfish

I never want to be selfless again.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/14/17

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Halfway

Folder: 
2017

Smother me in sanity

I never thought I had,

reach the line I didn’t dare to cross

 

I can stumble,

loathe this halfway

and still love it like my own,

stand on the ledge and keep myself from leaping

 

Leave my heart attacks at the door,

I can’t afford them

when I need the nervous,

the beats that sprint when I’m pressed close to you

 

Sin

ought to be something

this exquisite,

something bitingly sweet when I open my mouth,

something heartwrenching

that makes my heels

pound on the pavement

when you’re standing motionless-

 

I don’t know how long I can do this

without falling or

pretending to fall.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 4/2/17

bad decisions shoved under the welcome mat

Folder: 
2017

I used to think the chill in the air pulled at my lungs

and brought out the shivers

but we are warm and tangled,

this blanket is more than enough

and my chest is still icy

when you touch me like that.

 

if you are here it means I am moving,

I can’t sit still when you keep slipping,

please stay no matter how your temperature rises,

we have a cave to mold our secrets.

 

yesterday there were

bad decisions shoved under the welcome mat,

today I have unrolled them and swallowed the key,

we can’t get back in,

we are unknown.

 

you move one hand

up and I disintegrate,

it’s all I can do not to lean back and break down.

 

you move one hand

to mine and I am collapsing,

somehow you can love me with just your fingertips.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 3/29/17

Imagination (day 194)

You can fuck me up, you can fuck me down

You can feed my closed mouth to the ground

You can give me light or pitch black sidewalks

But you can’t take back all the lines I’ve crossed

 

You can tell me exactly what you want me to be

Put words in my mouth and make them a memory

You can take it all back and I won’t refuse

I’ll look at any mirror and still choose you

 

You can fuck me up, you can fuck me down

You can feed my closed mouth to the ground

You can give me light or pitch black sidewalks

But you can’t take back all the lines I’ve crossed

 

Holding back and holding out so I can’t face no

Should have started, ended, fell apart so long ago

Maybe is a halfway and it doesn’t need brave

But I need you to ask so we can be saved

 

You can fuck me up, you can fuck me down

You can feed my closed mouth to the ground

You can give me light or pitch black sidewalks

But you can’t take back all the lines I’ve crossed

 

You’ve built the reasons for this nocturnal mind

I know you can be a liar but you’re not this kind

So I scrape your smile against all I’ve ever been

Try to find fire with imagination and a pen

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 2/6/17

Imagination

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Innocence (day 193)

Blood runs rivers like some sort of paradise

I can see it on screen, drenched in sacrifice

All your innocence swirling down the drain

It’s okay, looks like you made it through the rain

 

I’d rather have stories to tell than a clean slate

You can mutter or scream and I’ll still stay up late

I don’t know how we still have things to say

but I’ll listen at dawn and ride this till it breaks

 

Minds run wild, I can’t see past my scars

I run in so many circles to find where you are

My innocence cracks your silhouette just to mend

It’s okay, looks like I made it to the end

 

All this innocence is blinding half a heart

Sitting here when we don’t know where to start

Second-guessing, all the stars aligned instead

I’d rather have stories to tell than a promise unsaid

Author's Notes/Comments: 

Written 2/5/17

Innocence

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A Grain in the Wind

Across the desert the wind storms through. Grains of sand cloud the air, hazing over the endless plain. Tiny in size, they unite to form an obliterating deadly force. They swirl, each in their own direction, but still maintain unanimity. Indistinguishable yet individual. Some grains travel miles with a single gust and others never budge. All are unique, which is to say that none of them are.

 

Once again the wind storms through. I feel the sand begin to prick the back of my neck. Voyaging through the desert, I must choose my own path. Where will the wind take me? 

 
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The dance

 

 

 

What if we were puppets dancing on a line?

A line that will brake at a given moment.

we will dance on the line until we are old enough to chooses are own path.

A path to fall or the path to land perfectly. 

As we dance on the line it will begin to sway becoming more difficult to dance and play.

With the wrong landing I will be sure to fall.

But what will happen will be up to me?

will I chooses to fall or will I keep dancing to this bitter sweet song.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

We all have a choice to make whether or not its good or bad you choose it and you can't change it but you can make it better its your life, will you dance to the lifes song or will you miss that one step?

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