10:51

{ Notes

The anger of a love that is never returned

The nature of love itselt,

Though only on one face of the coin

Nature taking many forms

The bare sand still soaked

The other side is mirrored

505

One’s youth preserved in music

808

One’s presence preserved by the bassist

One’s song stolen

By the other’s regret

A great tragedy my heart still cannot seem overcome

A great question of why as an artist my path is the lost one

My emotions overflow and I become uncontrollable

Directionless

Like sand paper

I just let myself do

What I need to do Maybe I’ll be okay?

My poetry stolen with uncontrollability

The myth of peace being the antonym to poetry

My ego rises as I write meaningless lyrics

If it didn’t matter how would I value it?

It’s the extreme to the extreme

It’s laziness when I need to move It’s fear in all the simple things

It’s blindsidedness when I need to learn

I’ve found myself despite you

Is ego in the battle? To make yourself bigger, heavier, harder to move yet unable to dance Harder to hurt but impossible to love

It’s possible to understand but love is to oneself is first

I cannot open myself up to you

Walking into you

With no fear, yet expectations

I wait, I breathe

I come back to center

I nest in my

Work, an old house in the woods.

I strike back to you with silence I strike back to you with solitude

I read my own thoughts

My

Own poetry

To the ghost of your remnants in my life.

I ask how they like it, they never answer me— nor will they ever.

Curly hair, faded eyes, no place to sleep, treating me like trash and still looking at you for

Validation.

Biology,

Karmic, or

Chaos?