Tag Archives: counseling

Giving Back

I hesitate, my instincts too far beyond my surroundings

Alert, in tune with my heartbeat and the earths warnings

Now I must stop and seek cover from what I fear

Not cowering, not hiding, but living on the edge of finality it’s clear

Trust is the luxury of believers, I’m not a believer anymore, I’m here

Somewhere between safe and sound, I can no longer wander

It serves me well to stay in the shadows, alert and alive

I don’t need the lie anymore. I know under that beautiful garden there’s violence and decay, things we know, but don’t speak of

Don’t sell me assurances you can’t provide, I’m safe alone

I’m tired of all these people I have to be just to make your world complete

It’s been so long you don’t know which one is me, because you fell, fell into the trap and got ensnared in the one that you could never be for more than a moment

I was hear all along watching you melt under the light of an abstract dream. It was warm for a moment, but only the sun can bring true light, true warmth. The others just illuminated what they wish you to see, what they want you to be

Now your not human, not a person, but a part of something so much bigger than you that you can’t see it’s nothing, you’re nothing. You’ve been put to sleep in someone else’s dream.

Not I. I am wild, but free. I feel the heat of the day and shiver in darkness under the moons glow dreaming of sunrises.

What good is a sunset anyway. The end of a day shouldn’t be honored, it should be remembered. Where did we learn to worship the end of anything, it’s beginnings that have hope. All we have in sunsets are reflections and regrets

So I’ll keep your smile and give you back your watch. I’ll keep the sound of your voice, but give you back your words. You’ll need your hands, so I’ll leave with your touch gently caressing my heart. Everything else belonged to the world anyway.

Randomness

My mind lazily stares at the reflection of the door in the rainwater collecting on the sidewalk. I struggle with which door to open, which door to walk through for the rest of my life. Both have become surreal and the glimmer of hope in my reflection is as real as the sadness behind the pains encased in reality.

In the end choice was an illusion, a weigh station to a truth I already knew. Home is an illusion like the mind. It doesn’t have matter like a house or brain, of which both will eventually collapse. And so it is, choice, the stairway to somewhere, always leads me on.

So is life an illusion brought to life in the reflection of inconsequential notions of reality. Are hope, faith, and prayer the home of truth, reality, and the work that brings shining moments. We aren’t meant to know, only care enough to try.

Does it all matter, probably not, but if you don’t care, it’s not worth living. The reflection means no more than the reality and that’s not a crossroad, it’s a void. A place where nothing has color or tears to dry. A place where death lives and life passes on.

Everything has meaning, has worth if we care. Reality pushed the boundary of sanity at times. So hold onto your reflections with the understanding that life does matter, as do the illusions that give it measure. When this gets twisted you’re no longer real.

Drifter

I sat before eternity silent
No answers did I seek
Listening for the future
To gently kiss my cheek

Being everywhere but nowhere
A space outside of time
Lacked color or purpose
Living in the sublime.

So I stood up and brushed my pants
And walked towards the crossroad
Where I felt a better chance.

And in the distant dust loud
Just behind the ochre road
Death rumbled in the clouds

Not one to take the middle road
I walked with open eyes
An ever slowing pace
Towards ever changing skies

I walked through the mirage,
And into the heat of day
Gathering the colors of life
For when the skies turn gray

The end of the earth is a lie
For fools who dream
Or ask themselves why

There are no rhymes for reason
To hold the truth alight
Just changes of the seasons
Stretching day to night

Addict

Tomorrow, yesterday, anytime but now
I’ve other things that must be considered
And you, you’re the rock I roll around

I’ve considered our fate and mourned
You’ve become part of my composition
Intertwined in my desire to consume.

You deny me while obsessing with my touch
You’ll lie for me, even cry for me tears of dust
I don’t mind because a minute doesn’t pass with the thought of me

I’m no longer a mistress or arm candy
I hold your passion like our lungs hold air
You breathe my essence with every twitch of nerve.

I’ll be with you forever like the death of a loved one
You’ll tense at moments without me streaming through your veins
Deny me if you want, I’ll be in the mirror and your dreams.

I am the addiction
And you are the addict
And so we part ways reluctantly

Voices

Entangled in an audible nightmare
Where my mind can’t see
Why my brain just stares.

Take my life, my limbs even
But leave my mind to me
And the sanity I’ve Been given.

Firm ground slithers
From under my thoughts
As the air withers.

And suddenly the noise is white
While trees smile and faces grow
Into a darkness void of night.

Self Less

Self, a universal mind alert
Moving in shadows
Leaving dust swirling
Around darting eyes

I Am self, strong and proud
Withering behind ideals
Crushed by culture
And the desire to be

You hide your self
In pockets of emptiness
Stuffed with decayed dreams
Fidgeting copper coins with bony fingers

My self ruminates in the sunlight
For all to see and mock

I don’t have to be you
Or anyone else hiding behind flesh

And smiles that dimly light a facade
Don’t glow, they’re merely coals
Warmed with yesterday’s fire

But the eyes tell all, windows to the soul as a scrim for your self.
Open your heart to your mind
And learn what freedom reveals.

Don’t fear our selfs, they’re one in the same. Dissected by station and aspirations that tear at moral fabric
Like a fat man dressed in a small suit.

I’m above and beyond being a symbol of time, culture, or class.
I live now, for this glorious moment
Because everything else is a dream.

Unnoticed

I see it playing with their hair and laughter keeping time with the gentle breeze. I’m in awe they don’t feel the wind or hear the laughter, they just live. Why must I feel every gust.

Leaves cyclone around them, yet still they dance and sing to the whistles of air unnoticed. The earth is spinning its seasons on gales and thermal moments, and the world spins on around me. I seek shelter from something That goes unnoticed.

I gave into the illusion and embraced the sweeping motion of the unseen. I focus on the scent ignorant of the trap or where it came. I no longer acknowledge the world around me or the forces it succumbs. I’m absorbed by the feelings it creates.

I go through pains to justify this existence. My nightmares turned to excuses many seasons ago. Now my nightmare is the wind will have colors everyone will see. My hair no longer blows, dust swirls around my feet leaving debris scattered where my life once lived, and the pain and wind dance around my desires like vines within a fence.

It’s here I’m stuck, intertwined, unable to move. I can only observe life within the links that have bound me. The wind and pain are reminders of the twisted nature of a lie.

You see, the fence, the wind , the pain are all props for the landscape of desire. The elements of a justification for choking my own existence. The links that strangle my ability to move forward. Now I tell myself as many lies as I do everyone else.

There is a me that is free of needs. Within me it’s the weaker self , but she’s resilient. For every lie she tells, there’s a truth that’s sad.