No easy way out, her tears say it all.

They brew so salty and pour out so sweet.

Propelled by purpose, they begin to crawl.

Pondering reason as they inch down her cheek.

Their path so determined remains so cold.

Tension presented in liquid form.

Eyes face toward earth as pain gently rolls.

The taste of tears on her lips so warm.

Those who escape discreetly march down.

Fatigue sets in against a perfect chin.

Shame propelled by a glorious frown.

Inch by inch toward that pool of sin.

A waterfall of tears now falls from the sky.

Over the edge into a nowhere mess.

End of the line where the tears all die.

To dissipate pain and release her stress.

I belong in the shadows.

I find comfort there.

I can relax and breathe.

I can be nowhere.

The walls offer safety.

A private place.

Where no one can judge me.

Then call it grace.

The center of attention.

Is a debilitating state.

Where light tells lies.

Where deceit permeates.

From the shadows I wait.

For the scene to conclude.

Any movement prior.

I may as well be nude.

You may think I’m there.

Or assume I’m away.

But I’ll watch the city.

From these shadows so gray.

I’d ask you to join me.

But there’s room for just one.

You’ll have to depart.

This web which I’ve spun.

So, I’ll stay in the shadows.

With my cautious mien.

Watching, waiting, wallowing, whispering.

Not to be seen.

Kicking a dead horse in an existential droop.

The vinyl slowly repeats in a mysterious loop.

What once hurt so badly is now forgotten pain.

But unanswered inquiries in this puzzle remain.

No doubt mesmerized by a rigid rocket queen.

A gaze in wide wonder, something familiar, is all I could glean.

Propelled on a journey with noticeable nuclear thrust.

Her lust threatened trust, then away with the dust, in but a gust.

Did the hasty lady command the peasant to jump?

Controlling his actions with her lovely lady lumps.

Or did the big bad wolf fear he would once again lose?

Making disorganized demands after drinking some booze.

Perhaps the princess desired the heart of another?

Repeating that crushing cacoethes she saw in her mother.

Was she rightfully justified in her idealistic claim?

Evidence then planted to cover up the shame.

Or was it something alluring or lost altogether?

Where reaction ruled with an electric-charged tether.

Sometimes the answers lie in tormented souls.

Devoid of day with darkest despair in the deepest of holes.

Do I possess the courage to face this objection?

Or shall I let it fester with me in subjection?

This introverted thinking, it seems, needs no rest.

It just seeks understanding in a mysterious mess.

The satisfaction of solving such a complex riddle.

May be reserved for kings calloused by the fiddle.

Train derailment of a friendship in the making.

Tossed out like garbage after many hours of baking.

Oh, you haven’t heard? The best friendships are baked!

They take time and effort and overcoming mistakes.

So, I lost a batch, whoopty freakin doo, oh well!

Yeah, it stung like hell, the tears all swelled, I couldn’t breathe, I didn’t bathe and I smelled.

But something amazing happened amid all the rain.

I met you.. and you.. and you.. and you.. and you ALL smothered the pain.

Like stop, drop, and roll, yo, our boy is on fire!

Let’s collectively put out this flame before the ire becomes dire.

Sure I still think about that other batch I lost.

Although it’s of no consequence today, I’ve profited greatly from the cost.

Some batches go bad due to past causation.

But baking continues and we’re back in gestation.

In case you are wondering, this is a letter of love.

For my true friends who saved me like angels from above!

I saw her as a sister

But she saw me as a bae.

He saw it as betrayal

And feared that she would stray.

The picture doesn’t paint

Itself in just one day.

The answers sometimes take

Each thread to slowly fray.

You calculate the silence

The colors and the grey.

You vet the noise so loudly

And give each thought a weigh.

All the theories grab you

But intuition stays.

You have to learn to trust it

To see the wolf in prey.

Boundaries confused her

A spectrum full of gray.

Reasoning diminished

And fears were not allayed.

The taste it lingers bitter

For sweetness you can pray.

Some pain it heals so slowly

But never goes away.

I refuse to lock these feelings

I won’t keep them at bay.

For am I not the keeper

Of lives in disarray!

She’s as solid as a rock, but soft like feathers.

She’ll juke the jackasses and shun the weather.

Those floundering fools in their solo acts.

Like demon-possessed doofuses strung out on crack.

She’s like that mutant, made out of metal.

Rock her or sock her, best case you’ll fettle.

Sometimes I wonder, is she really real.

Can I reach out and grab her. Can I touch her and heal?

Perhaps contemplation is artificially injected.

As my thoughts persist with suspicion suspected.

From where does her strength originate?

Is it divine and developed? Does it discriminate?

So I’ll wrap up this brief on this Heavenly creature.

As my mind leaves me crippled, a daydream believer.

If we passed each other by, you’d look to the sky

Perhaps even ignore me or let out a sigh

I’d be oblivious to your confusing anger

But when you open your heart you face all the danger

I hoped you’d consider not stooping so low

But your sticks and your stones struck such a tough blow

That’s what’s wrong with the world today

You’re expected to act as they say you may

And if you don’t, then they place the blame

They’ll call for your head in public shame

And if you still don’t comply, they’ll howl like the beast

And call in their pack, those horrible teeth

The wolves are out there with that smirking frown

But the bears and the pumas we don’t back down

He learned the hard way when he took a poke

And was squashed into silence like an artichoke

You might be the villain in their fairy tale vision

Because perspective to them is a rudimentary prison

But there’s a positive message. There’s no need to worry

We’re all the bad guy in somebody’s story

You try to hold love because you see it as solid.

A sensory endeavor, lacking and stolid.

But as I see love, its celestial and magic.

The worldly perspective so limited and tragic.

I hear it yell out with trumpets and horns.

It learns and adapts, constantly reborn.

I feel it go through me, it makes no sense.

Because love is not spoken, it’s much more intense.

‘More Than Words’ explained my utter disdain.

Real love is bigger than a kiss in the rain.

If you try to convince me you’ve figured it out.

You’ll fill me with pity, distrust, and doubt.

For love is not clay or a baffling riddle.

That’s a dishonest distortion wrapped in a taradiddle.

By the way, love’s like a cloud that leaves no trace.

It exists not in sight, sound, or space.

In the end we all love something, in this abbreviated life.

Through failure, pain, turmoil, resentment, and strife.

The leaves fluttered gently and floated slowly to the ground.

Brisk wind portrayed the fiddler, the leaves made not a sound.

We left a lifetime of triumph, as we worked our way down.

And as the end drew nigh, we circled round and round.

The other leaves cheered loudly as the wind blew so strong.

When once we all were growing, we now did not belong.

The rights that once were righted and wrongs that felt so wrong.

Now pierced the soul so sharply as we sang that same sad song.

A wealth of light was given and the water made us grow.

So many ticks before this, prior to getting old.

We stared up at the stars and remembered the love we sold.

Then fell back to the earth, at the closing of our show.

The brown, crisp leaves lied safely, as we failed to bide our time.

The hurt and pain dimmed slowly as we escaped that daily grind.

They tried to show us Heaven, but we’d all become so blind.

Our souls then rested in pieces as we left them all behind.

Trapped in my cave like a retreating spider.

Paralyzed by seasons, a prison so cold.

Deprecating self for a plethora of reasons.

Searching for comfort in the things I should know.

Pushed so deeply into my cave of sorrow.

My soul attacked as I tried to cope.

Metamorphosis endowed so the story fits.

Each breathe made large by their microscope.

I sought to extinguish this burning desire.

As the fire blazed on, an exhaustive flame.

Now shifted inward to a soul in despair.

Left with nothing but crippling shame.

Control has left me, so just let me be.

This is not a clash I care to win.

Whether shackled or free, dead or alive.

The fight is with me, my struggles within.

My heart and my soul, so frigid and numb.

Strapped to a leash as worthlessness shouts.

My thoughts chained to questions of empty ambition.

The night scraps for mercy, the day yields self-doubt.

I’ve seen the ugly face of control!

It has a bony nose much like a troll.

A helpless longing to consume the soul.

It hides like the wolf, but can’t take hold.

Wrapped up like a sheep, most will not notice.

But the danger is there, though he smells like a lotus.

His control is impulsive with empty threats.

While he shakes and cowers in a dark, cold sweat.

Sitting sound from a distance, he’ll come at a fella.

But standing two feet from you, he’s nothing but yella.

I’ve seen the worker, the trucker, and the hipster edition.

Chocked full of denial and narcissism.

So, WHATCHA GONNA DO with a brother like that?

You can love em, hate em, or start up a chat.

But chatting can’t work with he who lacks grace.

And love em or hate em, he’ll spit in your face.

Back to control, because he’s the real bastard.

If he thinks he can’t own you, then he’ll show he’s a dastard.

Once he realizes you’re a rock he can’t tame.

He’ll publicly shame you and tear down your name.

While he wears all white and is perfectly groomed.

He’ll plot his next action. He’ll spread all his doom.

I saw a bird fly overhead today. The wind had authority.

Then the urgency of the clouds grabbed my mind.

This fascination for freedom reigned down on me.

As the clouds moved swiftly by.

I can be the bird if embrace such a path.

I can even walk away. A great escape.

From these shackles that confine and tie me down.

The expense of freedom. An ounce of energy. Otherwise trapped in a prison of decay.

So, what is love to you? Is it merely a physical designation?

And how do you measure free will?

If you show me your soul when opportunity asks.

Then I’ll bless you with time just the same. A gift to help you heal.

There’s just this riddle that knocks at my door. It goes something like this.

To where does the wind blow with such conviction?

And does it get tired of this merciless march?

A search for soul is such an affliction, an addiction… an existential contradiction.

Inside my mind exists an infinite world where time is not a fan.

A travesty! A farce! Such a hard pill to swallow.

This infinity bound to a finite burn.

For where the clouds go I simply cannot follow.

Wait, was my responsibility your fear?

Why did you anoint me high above this bewildering sphere?

How is such a thing even purposefully given?

No! I do not accept it. It’s not to be driven.

If God wanted to hurt you or make you flee.

He wouldn’t use a soul as broken as me.

I’m a bucket of parts after a violent crash.

I’ll not accept credit for this fortuitous clash.

I desire to be more than a struggling potter.

It’s all I can do to overcome this totter.

So I offer a task to help you heal.

Stop anointing beggars who struggle for meals.

And stop giving power to simple men.

You mold them, make them, then throw out their tin.

For the blaze has created a new creature in me.

Larger than a king’s decree, more vast than the endless sea.

The only thing that’s changed is time’s marked erosion.

Which I accept with a smile, an existence frozen.

So leave here today and rethink what you do.

Because one-walled prisons provide a dreadful view.

I stand on the plains, stars floating high.

Arms raised in a V.

Let me fly, I plead! OH GOD LET ME FLY!

I cry…

I fall to my knees. Tears hit the earth.

Hands excavating.

Great balls of fists pound the turf!

Tears pose the question…

What is my worth?

I ponder the gravity of soaring through space.

I may have just floated!

Did it happen? Was it real?

No… I remain at my base.

How small is my faith.

I’m merely an ant on this giant rock.

Nothing more.

My body in peril. My thoughts in hock.

I stare at the stars.

While my soul absorbs the shock.

It’s the little things that resonate.

Like subatomic fusion, the profound effects permeate.

An ounce of energy spent.

But the returns brimming with endorphins emanate.

This undeniable phenomenon bursts with information.

Extricating us from shackles with a dash of abnegation.

Microscopic in nature.

With prestige and charm, frozen in captivation.

I’ll ask you with humility to down-size my meal.

And prepare for a splash, profound and surreal.

An illusion of sorts.

Thrust backwards, jerked forward, then ego ideal.

Nothing is permanent a wise man once said.

Echoes of acumen abject and widespread.

A fusillade of fortitude.

A service of self and compromise thee wed.

You sit there shallow as a one foot pond.

Shadow boxing in the mirror, an intimate bond.

Wait, let me get that chair for you kind sir.

I wouldn’t want your peasants to cause a stir.

For what else is more important than your entitlement?

Just look at you there, that’s money well spent.

Can I fetch you some grapes or alcohol?

Wash your feet, jump off a cliff, or take the fall?

Shall I call you Mr. President?

Or clean your mansion while I sleep in a tent?

You won’t change, you’re too far gone.

I’ve lost hope in you, these stitches are sown!

So keep doing what you do, so I can puke.

Dehydration sets in, your charade is a fluke!

The truth is your throne is the biggest joke.

And your anointing by self is as good as broke.

It flows like ice through varicose veins.

Stings like jellyfish with lasting pain.

This blunt force trauma that feels so permanent.

Lacking love, grace, and time well spent.

My perspectives can change, so why can’t yours?

An oxymoron at best, but this is not my tour.

You should know by now that we all have a gut.

And feelings pour out of it like a clown or a klutz.

You can never feel what you can’t even perceive.

One feels nothing while the other one grieves.

They say we’re all connected like a commonwealth.

If that is the case, how can these feelings be stealth?

Can we genuinely grieve for the pain in their queue?

I can say it cuts through me. How about you?

Evil walks these streets in the foggy, warm night

Snatching souls meticulously in a wretched, horrid plight

But the beaming light has no agenda, as it blasts through the air

While fear strikes stinging jabs at me as it beseeches to fight.

Why is it you crouch in these ghoulish shadows, I ponder

Pretending you’ve meandered into that great big yonder

While you watch and record every subtle breath I breathe

Arrogance, grasping at straws, as to what I am willing to squander.

In darkness you hide in the calmly disseminating steam

But I attentively perceive as you go to every extreme

You carefully observe me from a Hubble perspective

But so incredibly blinded you are to my hopes and dreams.

Have you heard of light? It’s what consumes the dark

It only grows more fierce with each cowardly bark

Like the wolf that keeps howling straight at the moon

I can only apprise that you conscientiously hark.

Shew shew shew, as you expeditiously go

With your passive negativity and darkness in tow

I’m not interested in your maniacal method of fear

So I’ll occupy this apex and let my light ever glow.

She visited my slumber and caused confusion.

I turned and whispered: This must be an illusion.

Thoughts abstracted and words turned to mush.

She sat there in silence, consumed by a hush.

This house unaccustomed felt so abstruse.

A sense of anxiety. The fear of abuse.

Their faces I knew, but their heartbeats were off.

What reality calls love, this dream called a scoff.

Her aura lorded over like stress to a soul.

The wall that obstructed might as well be a hole.

The wolf so robotic with expressionless face.

While she lie there motionless with a veil of disgrace.

I scurried to finish the art I was building.

But the problem endured. It felt so unyielding.

The pressure received from this groundless regime.

My mind hurt so bad as it ripped at the seams.

My bride pulled intently, as she’d had enough.

We’re blowing this joint. Start packing it up.

Time-thickened pain from a baffling theme.

A nightmarish feast on this subconscious dream.

I have been to the moon.

That quiet, lonely place.

Where stillness and silence dominate.

I have processed the pain.

As overthinking took hold.

My heart in custody. No bail for my soul.

I have stood at the party.

While my mind knelt alone.

Down in a crater. My existence unknown.

My mind sent the riddles.

Which echoed like screams.

Through my every being. I was stuck in a dream.

My intuition blew the whistle.

And locked down the place.

Avoid all the others. Evade every face.

People need people.

But they forget us sometimes.

A shot through the heart. Such a shame. Such a crime.

But the moon offers light.

So I’ll go there again.

To process my peace. To recover my zen.

Come cry with me

Let’s lose them all in another dimension

Let the tears crawl slowly, sensing uncertainty in a cold dark world

Avoiding eradication, like a spider on the wall.

Come cry with me

You’ll feel much better as our tears form a river

They’ll extricate and bring us warm hope

A refreshing freedom from this temporary fetter.

Come cry with me

You deserve this release as life deserves love

Let stress blast like rockets then float with impulse above

And leave you in peace as we’re left behind.

Come cry with me

Everyday if you will as your warm heart begs

I’ll commit to your accord, I’ll invest in your pain

If you’ll accept my deal all the same.

Come cry with me

Let’s paint this cold, grey world

Every color of the rainbow, as our brushes narrate

We’ll capture it on canvas, a magnificent day.

Come cry with me

You need not be afraid when the enemy appears

Raise your head slowly and rest your soul on a cloud

The pain’s gonna fade as it loses its faith.

Come cry with me

Our emotions so frail, our knees on the ground, can anyone tell

Their judgement so harsh, such piddling strife

With power, passion, peace, and poise, they’ll watch us prevail.