alternate realities

i am myself...too serious

i dont know what relief would look like.
maybe never remembering, or just keeping a low profile
less eyes that pry, less smiles
to swat like flies.
i noticed your message, and it speaks with scarred tones
your foray back into it. pulsing veins and first times all over
new breath and paces, the new gentle. my conquered lands.
a moment over too soon, on this end at least, one thing,
i hope we can't share. you never seemed scared. just unsure

well ill say it for the death of saying it
i have never experienced personal success of life like that
i have never felt so many things
and now theyre sooty dreams
i have to relearn to relearn to not learn.
i hope one day i can articulate that sinking feeling inside of me.

like a loaf of bread not proofed
but still rising
a shake like a shiver
but alone like a flame
worse than an eight foot canyon set
squirming like an above the earthworm.
shivering in the shower, and sweating in the sea

im a fish running with line
im the salt water i am fighting to stay in
im the pescadore and the oven at home.

the occasional offering

these days im more likely to medicate
than to articulate

prospectors country

there is gold in these hills
and the air each night
so they say
im not
sold.

what does it take to play hot potato?
what's it like to hate?
all of the above
is unable to
relate.

rewards among gems showing off
covering the passing time
like deserts with
the occasional
oasis

cut backs not set backs

proper posture..smile lines...achy muscles...and a harder start in the morning

blood letting...maybe to induce forgetting...maybe to just keep distracted

im professionally subtracted..i havent been this sick since the last time i was this sick

i havent been this healthy since i wasn't healthy.

i need a date to a wedding..i need to name my godchildren

i need to learn to build a structure for shelter

i need to do all of these things not for myself

i need to hear the earthquake sirens.

i want to feel the pounding of the pavement

from fleeing feet

the syncopation produced is bliss.

crowds  in unison...the air congealing.

the earth is a cage, and your life is your subscription