Sorting things out

I spent the day trying to sort things out.
Trying to sift through where I have gone and where I am now and
where I want to be in the future.
I am fully aware that I haven't a lot of time to do the exploration of my interests and heart left.
But that level of pressure is, in and of itself..
Incredibly stifling.

I want to do so much.
I think that we so often forget that our goals needn't lay underneath floorboards,
collecting dust.
For if we don't have them,
what is the point of anything?

I cannot allow myself to continue down this path of the remedial.
I must seek another new experience.
I must write, and sing, and travel, and play.

Today I wrote a song.
I have 2 jobs, and I'm registered for classes,
 and I'm about to acquire an internship.

But none of it matters.
I configured pieces of a puzzle, put it all together, and still the
picture is indecipherable.

Do I really have to start all over?

Did I really start all over?

The Orchid.

I woke up this morning with vigor in my veins,
bound and determined to have a really productive day.
Stretching, picking up clothes, and getting ready to go
downstairs ensued.
I don't know why it caught my eye this morning.
The mildewed moss inside the squared
glass box.
I tried to make the coffee first,
but it's corpse-like stance drew me back to it ...
Like some memory long forgotten.
Like a haunted, crispy room.
Approaching, I realized what it was.
It had been vibrant, purple once .
Endearing in the strangest of ways.
Embracing me on the tiny nightstand
when I slept once.
Alone.
It saw me through a trying time.
And when I thought I'd lost myself
It shielded me from things that hurt
and reminded me to stay.
Colorful.
The orchid is dead now.
It's time to let go.
The season of it has passed.
But I will not forget
All it's dream-catcher ways.
As it served its purpose
at last.

"To every thing there is a purpose under heaven.:"

Maybe someday I will be that for someone.
And have a purpose.
and be my true colors .
Fulfilled.
So that when it comes time for me to revert into my own glass box,
I will welcome the peace with open arms....
Resting in the knowledge that I never
conformed to anyone's shades
of grey.

Just because.

To be freed from something is not always what it seems.
Being back in Ohio hasn't really felt normal since I have been back.
In hindsight, I cannot regret my decision, even if I feel that I should.
In hindsight, I need to remember that I am much more than I allowed myself to become in the days and weeks that have slowly passed me by.
And now that I've lived like an insect.
Like a fly.
Buzzing around on someone else's wall.
With out my own sweet, painted walls...
I've come to find that when alone
 I have to face my fears,
 I know.

I've nothing  now but endless time .
and  here I am-
 without a dime.
Without a rhyme.
Without a face.
I'm not established in this place .

But try my hardest now, I will.
and try to see that I am still-
the rose that i once knew I
was.
When I was redder
just because.

When texts become...well. this.

I cannot streamline anything. 

Alone. 

Down here again. 

I don't know how to quit the things 

I've tried so hard to 

stop. 

It's not like our new bubble, 

it won't deflate or pop. 

Instead it's like a message that I've tattooed to my 

mind. 

Afraid to be alone 

with only just one pair of eyes. 

It's not okay to feel this way. 

I know it has to change. 

The other eyes are slighted, decomposed and rearranged .

And though I feel the poison in his overdosed, 

cramped hover. 

He's like a button contract. 

"Give your eyes now, to another."

But if in fact, I do it,

cut them out without a plan. 

I''ll wind up like the pixied lost

in "other mother" land

It's crystal clear when 

we deft the 

nag of obligation

until i finally catch the cold of crystal 

separation. 

The clarity of see-through glass without 

your heart to lead it...

It lends itself to fogging up 

and though I do still feel it

The parallels and hues inside the 

safety of your form

Get lost as I get mixed up past the calm eye of 

your storm. 

I don't want to desert you. 

I only wish to give you more. 

For hidden underneath you is the

love i've waited for. 

We painted it all backwards. 

And it hurts. 

But do the math....

We've found the destination, 

But we haven't any path. 

I promise to 

discover, dig and 

carve up every land...

If you can walk us through 

the broken tracks. 

and hold my hand. 

And perhaps during moments when the 

pressure sparks it hotter. 

The burn will 

melt my 

guilded wings. 

So I can be your water. 

Small.

Unleashed in thought-
We have not gone
The ones we walk and stand 
Among. 
Diminished lovers of the colors of the world.
We cannot be ourselves,
Can we?
We were bought by
Society.

How Magic Goes

The first day since I have been here that I felt seemingly incapable of stopping.
It's almost 2 am and I can't feel anything.


I wouldn't feel the sun if it was warm upon my face.
I wouldn't see the moon
if it eclipsed for me  in lace.
I wouldn't hear the voice of singing angels in
a chorus.
I wouldn't know our fortune
if a psychic read palms for us.
I cannot feel the winter, or the autumn or the spring.
I cannot see the thunder.
I cannot feel most anything.
I don't know if it's better if I go or stay this way.
But this moment I'm the fallen
To  addiction
I was prey.
Come sun I'll try to fix it.
Come sun I'll try to rise.
With newfound rested thoughts
and painted lips,
and dewy eyes.
But tonight I lurk in shadow.
Hidden under mickey's nose
We are the slaves under the magic.
But that is just how magic goes.

Wandering

"All learning has an emotional base."
                                 -Plato
I feel very restless today.
Like a wind up clock without hands.
Like a time frame with no event.

I'm a lost planner of sorts, having fully engaged in
embracing negativity for certain notions that I once held to be valid and true.

I feel strange and yet,
oddly aware.

I don't know how to be the "to-do"
list anymore .

But I miss even that.

At least then I had a definition.


-Lys