an ArtifactI am as American as apple pie.I come from parents of diffferent hemispheresone north of the silver liningliving with regretssettling for less.The otherSouth of good intentionsfrom the other side of the track marksin a bad cityof a lonely country.looking for something to wake up to.My DNA strainsto keep a connectionto the ties that bind me.like a chain to a rockin the prison summer.I am possessed by the ghosts of prior actionsthat usher me into patternsi understand as the Deja vucomplex.My apocalypse figurecovered in bruises from different discussionslike different doors y
What is LifeWhat is Life. In something soothing and sensual, I take apart the flower that Life gave me. Piece by piece, I let the white wishes fall away, letting my hopes and expectations fall and fade. I don't need to see them anymore. The fact is, I had a flower, I loved its beauty, and it exists within me forever.A snowstorm of fleeting flowers, can be so beautiful it's painful to watch. And yet here, in your arms, I'm letting this flower be open, and every single moment happens in a warm quilt made by God.You can tell me that you love me. And I'll love you. And you can tell me that you'll leave me. And I'll love you still. I would not have said
catch some burnslike those random memories that sway me to thinking i'm falling offtipping my boat of stability and emotional control of who i am todayit could be a lack of sleep or some bored irritation rebelliance against my own happinessbut i would like to just stopand restand not have to explain myself, think of myself as something that should bedoing this or thatliving in a world that is too much into my businessa world that is not my businessyet i'd like so much to be a change in that businessyou say dear self, again and again, bullets to my brainthat you want to revisit memoriesfor the sake of seeing beauty in themi see in th
embrace uncertaintyEmbrace uncertainty, let my darkness melt with yoursWe'll light up all these tunnels, draw up gold from these wellsI'll give you notes and letters, but you'll stop me with your handSaying "There's so much more that I can read, through what my own heart can.I don't owe you a thing, love, I'm not here to takeLook at our footsteps falling, see what shapes they make."We'll walk to the purple light, pick up flowers on the way,By the time we reach the end, we'll have made some little mistakes.And I'll tell you "It's okay, to be caught up in this blissOh I've lived a life of danger, I'm used to taking risks."You'll smile at me an
fairgroundsWe make our farewells at the fairground, and the ferriswheel spin of our days and nights grinds to a cold and silent halt. But, you promise, we will have one last ride. One last day to ourselves. One last day to remember.And in the crushing golden haze of summer's dying days, we leave our regrets with the sullen ticket sellers, the sullen customers, the sullen children squirming in the heat. We laugh past them like the summer breeze and pretend to be happier than they could ever be.We enter the raw cacophony of it together. Our brightly pasted smiles belong instantly, wholly, to the savage relentless pursuit of amusement that ebbs around
Sta.sh
