just

Much of life is near misses and it’s not like there’s a lot of second chances so letting go and sacrifices are real misses in the end strike outs knowing this time that just passed never returns some days I just can’t see the point of pontificating once again why you gotta act so damn…

The Witching Hour

I’ve been going down all the roads I’ve gone before now the miles ride buttery with the new asphalt laid over the toll the wounds took and the surface once broken now seamless yet I remember them well the circles I’ve closed while I hung on a cross sacrificing everything from the years in between…

on experiencing

he asked me if I amheavy companyam I demandingspiritually, intellectuallyI wasn’t surewhat that meansI see throughthe eyes of an almost-queenwhose broken profilepaints the surrealoverlayedlike a Dali of poetrya scorpion shaped venuson a canvas of wordsi referto the obscureliteraryrooted in the dailyordinaryreflections tricklingfrom conversationswith the imaginaryI guess I’m kind of heavyif I only feel intenselyor not…