I was alive once before a long time ago not yet happened. Memory serves no man, but especially a man who went to sleep only to wake as a small boy, not even sleeping but standing alone in a world that knew him not. At the very least, I knew that there were some things about which I could never know, about which I could never speak. Fearless, however, would be the best way to describe this person with whom I am unwittingly tied. Sometimes the limitations of language limit the mind. Even still, I wake; I search, but sometimes I wake and forget. Read more
There are no shadows here. Everything is grey. Colors abound elsewhere but not here. Even in the light of day, the trees blow and sway but fail to liven up the place. People walk. People talk. But they do not feel, hear or take stock. What ought to be known will be told. Despite whether or not it’s cold. For to determine a sense for the self, an acknowledgement of others must be felt. But there are no shadows here. Presumably, that means that there is no one else.
“I don’t believe in shortcuts,” we hear you say,
but the truth is simply, one hasn’t come your way.
Sad trifles and condemnation against people who gain unearned,
you stifle in stagnation about your intellect sorely spurned.
In fact, people rarely get what they don’t deserve,
yet you complain, create nothing, oh, what the nerve.
What are the chances you’ll wake up to the crushing feeling
that the problem is you who is jealous, always squealing.
No matter how it is that you want to see it,
peeps like you always lose, you’re a fraud, counterfeit.
She puts on a smile so the world may see,
the she in her she wants to deceive;
with a plan and a purpose too great to relieve,
she pursues the perception wholeheartedly, naive.
“Be my lover,
and let’s live together,
a life on par
with all the others.”
“Or perhaps, instead, let’s fly upstream
and build a life seen only in dreams.”