Letting Go

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Tension filled muscles pull taut against the sunset, a chemical solution of fear and excitement painting white walls across my face.

I am beautiful, an immaculate compilation of paradoxical paradigms balanced perfectly but swaying slightly in the winds of time.

Gentle as the soft kiss of snowflakes on a memory I let go, my each step shatters the world, captured by the lazy shutter blink of my eyes.

Holy and blessed, my wings blossom bright against the oncoming darkness but fades slow as hallowed light meets reality and I am human, again.

Terrified child tossing about in the wild winds of stormy voices, I clutch the empty air looking for salvation, but I am falling, drowning in fear.

“Resist the fall, regain your reality”, repeat, repeat until it’s a mantra, a requiem for my freedom as I pass the point of no return gleefully

Open wider than oceans, my eyes drink in the sights spread before me as if watching a silent movie, my heart beat the film score.

Paradise is that moment between death and life when everything is quiet and for the first time I can see through God’s eyes.

Everything ends, I slowly descend, return to the earth, still human but somehow much more, the only evidence of my ascent the swaying rope.

Midnight Honesty

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It has been a long time since I have written anything but poetry and terrible papers for school. I want to apologize because I am going to tell you that I will be honest but the truth is I am lying. I will try to be honest. It will hurt. I will lie. Today in a conversation with a friend (lie) I was forced to confront the monster under my bed. The faceless phantom and the silent nightmares. I was forced to confront the reality of how I feel. Simply put, I loathe myself. I detest my very being and hate myself so thoroughly that I would destroy myself if I could. Funny thing is, I am in love with myself. I am an arrogant, narcissistic, and overall terrible person. Don’t expect this to end on a hopeful note. Or to have some deep meaning. This is my way of coping with the pain that we all suffer. Some people have drugs and drink to dull the pain. Others have love and purpose to let them forget. I have people. I drown myself in the orgy of activity. The ebb and flow of conversations and the transfer of energy and emotion. Like some leech or vampire, I smile and make small talk while bathing in the life. That’s how I survive. But sometimes, the darkness descends and I come face to face with the truth I have hidden in my heart and I am afraid. I hate myself. Sometimes. I am alone. More often than not. I am lonely. Almost always. It’s funny. Pressing black keys with white symbols in a dark room lit up by the fluorescent light of a laptop monitor can somehow alleviate the pressure in my chest. I can breath enough to trust myself to sleep. I am not depressed. Or especially troubled. Trust me, I know. I have spoken with people suffering from genuine depression and that is a beast from another plane. I am simply a mental hypochondriac with the desire to feel. An empathetic sociopath. I am simply a lonely boy/man sitting in a dark room tapping away at salvation. Each word another breath of air entering my lungs. I hate myself. I love myself. I exist. I am alive. And for today. That is enough.

Purgatory

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I am stuck at cusp of becoming but still I am a child.

My mind aflight with childish fantasies of Write

and wrong though my eyes see the machine clearly.

I still believe in love, I am broken and I have broken

still I believe in art, in Kintsukuroi, because we

are made more beautiful for having been broken.

Our scars tell the stories of the times we died

and our hearts pumping painfully say we still live!

Torn apart by my innocence I am both the dragon

and the virgin blood I desire to consume whole.

Each step I take brings me closer to the infinite,

though unfathomable I count myself a shining star.

I am part of the system but not a part of the system,

I stand apart and part the pain, I am the resistance.

The sun cast shadows that never seem to  pass,

and I drown in the darkness of light for days, alone

but every once in awhile I stand on top of a mountain.

I can breathe clearly and the world seems fresh

almost as if burnt, broken, shattered and reborn.

Though I am stuck in purgatory today, I am still alive