37,000 miles.....

I swore I knew the way... lost is about 37,000 miles back. Some pearls along the way I've learned though have stuck. People that don't hold the door for you, are lost, scared & are uncertain of how to live in love. Seems deep for doors, but that's the short cut. People who treat as if you don't exist and aren't worth minimal effort, will never consider you worth the real effort; even if at one time they manipulated you into thinking otherwise. Love is shown, not spoken. Lies should be non existent, as they make it easier to pave the way for growth in their numbers. A person that is hurt or in pain, regardless of it's origin, does not deserve anger. Real love is going above and beyond to ensure that the others heart is safe and happy, more importantly, before your own. If a person does not RSVP to the invitation of your life in it's entirety, stop acquiescing to theirs. If you are feeling more worthless than when you entered into a person's life after some time, you've let someone else control your destiny. A person that feels they are on the back burner, most likely are. If confusion is making more of an appearance than clarity, make space. If you are loving too much & its not being reciprocated, you're not weak or foolish; you've just remembered who you are, what you're worth & that there is one person who will match you in that effort. People who neglect human angels are still sorting themselves out or participating in a comfortable sickness. People who love you will let you know everyday. People who don't, won't know they fucked up until you're gone; but they will know it everyday from then on. Being decent hasn't lost all of it's matter, but very few care to carry it on. Surround yourself with those people. They will carry you when the sickness from others creeps in. Know that whatever you have become "ok" with; you deserve better. People who don't care will make it very obvious that they don't. Do not try to save these folks, they want zero help. Make yourself a priority, because no one else will. The people that do, keep em close; this is your tribe. Tribe less people have no lines that attach to love, if they deny this lesson; it is on them. Loving a person that doesn't love you is an exquisite kind of pain, avoid it when you can. If it happens, learn from it and don't let the stain seep in. It most likely had nothing to do with you. It is becoming more and more common to be crucified for being fearless in decency, take your licks and come on down. If you can still walk, walk. Walk until you can't see them anymore but you've forgiven them along the way. Everyone has an obligation to self peace. Don't allow others to steward that right in front of you. One can only sustain so many broken things. Make it less. Make you more.

Always the same shit.

Selling it again. All over the neighborhood. Making it seem worth while. Same story. Same falsehood. Same stickiness prevailing in all the usual spots. What, why and how will this find a non winding road? Blown up again over the ruse that always has to be ok for the magic mountain but not the rest. Hazing a horrific possibility is the worst thing one could entertain. It seems to make an appearance quite often. Let's see, we'll see, they all see............... but me.

LG, MK, LG, AP, TR, JI, NP, WR, SR.

Even though the bones were getting sharper, the skin getting longer and the shards getting taller, she desperately wanted the home made family, the large fire that she stoked for the small circle that fueled her for what had seemed like lifetimes to know that she would never take them for granted & hadn't. They had held her up, wiped away the sheets of sad that were only kept at bay by THEM, hugged her when others were afraid to speak to her, gave her a purpose and a reason. A reason to...... She would die for them, and maybe was; either way she wanted them to know that they were the ones. The ones that would be forever. This time and every time. Thank you.

Those Stickers Hurt...

Up. Down. Turned. Examined. Under intense observation, scrutiny morphs into a judgement posing as concern or curiosity; depending on the depth of woods said "observer" is stalking. The haze that this imagined projected dream produces is as freeing as it is lugubrious. I don't know what it is that you think you lost that you will reclaim in me. I am more hidden than you. It's a series of shards. A waning sleep that wants nothing more than secret light nestled in gray days to last. Not with you, but the one that's there to stay. That was never you and certainly the expectation that you house for its potential now, is futile. The best part, is that I never have to feel that static, anxious discord again. Not in this life. Still water in the cactus you emotionally devastating fascist.

If they wanna be real about it, they'll bring you the ocean.

On top of a roof top under an electrified sky that rumbled with the thrill of what was previously thought to be not only the improbable, but both parties had resolved an impossibility. That being said, a walk was had. Not off the side of the building but on the solid concrete that would fuel the conversation that would last a lifetime. Who knew an ocean was portable? She had no idea. The actual transference of energy could be felt, the ramifications were unseen, but she felt herself falling right off the edge. As did her phone. Right out of her fucking pocket. Chaos ensued. Reality notwithstanding, all of the engraved muck ups, not for you, not ever, brewed into a deep & thick chrysalis that brought her not back to reality, but to the ever present fuck youatude of the situation that had a way of continuously appearing for quite some time now. Long enough for her to believe them. It was too late. She was in ever loving, swooning l o v e. There were strange occurrences, close calls, blatant displays of back to black and just plain back. Then he was there in the midst of the dust, debris & shattered memories of things no one that had ever taken a breath ever wanted to know. Waiting. Looking. Approaching. Embracing. He brought her the ocean. Again.

I changed my Mind.

So one day all of the things that seemed to be set, maybe not in stone, but certainly viable none the less, sort of, just melted. A sufficient fire had been stoked, made its way into the dark that had held the tension and misconstrued ideologies for what seemed like an eternity and vanished. In it's place grew realizations that had always been dormant but never allowed to surface. It made her fearless in a way that she had previously believed was only reserved for those of the dawn, but came to find, they were also for the wolves of winter. She saw that the painstaking waves of contentment deprived years had been in close succession to one another for so long, due to the necessities for these truths to rise. It isn't in one day that they appear, but over a series of time that is on a pace unknown to the receiver, but they ARE here. No more nickels echoing in sad cups, no more vein stopping to subdue her children's absence, no more bottoms of things without bottoms but wrangling with the idea that there might be in this one. It all came to a halt, when she saw that winter was in fact not forever and there were mountains of glass that one was trying to move through to get to her. She didn't know anyone was looking. Her person had discovered her again. And for a long time, rain had never sang to her in the way that it did then. A wind telling of encapsulated fatalistic events that had to happen in order to get here was on its back. She knew that maybe not only should she live, but deserved to after the smoke. The apex of the triangle had been appointed to his care, and it was like then never was and would never be as good as right now. She knew it was him, because air was meant to carry something, and she chose fire. She knew she would never know the cold again.

The Devoid are making a Pilgrimage to my Medicine.

Ever notice how some folk always think they can wait it out; leave a rusty busted & most certainly un taut canoe out in the water, just to see, see if there's any bite left? There's hole in it love. There's no dyke big enough in the world to fill it, particularly, when it's docked in my yard. Perhaps the answer, is to simply stop stealing my force that can't be reckoned with & feigning ownership to it. I have earned my keep under the soft night & am in little to no danger of losing my medicine. I suggest you stop leaning so hard on socially acceptable memes that some how translate to your virtual happiness, promulgating a way of life that is foreign to you and have no business treading through in the first place. I wish truth upon you in a way unbeknownst to you as of now. If that doesn't gel, you can always go back to being a bottle blonde, buying spanx & or Jordans respectively, planting fictitious seeds where no soil lies and last but not least; if you can't stand in my light, certainly don't hide in my shadow.