Willful sink
The bleakest truths
To depths ignored,
But not forgotten.

Tomorrow, close enough
To make us believe
That we can plan as far
As we think we can see.

Gimme heart,
Soul music,
Life's rhythm
Hiding from the algorithm,
Out of spotlight
On the B-side of Spotify —
Tunes that make even
Time itself stop and listen
For a minute or
Two, three, four,
Before dancing us by.

Once upon a time
We’d thought it
Signs heralding
The end times —
A comet,
A second moon,
Global northern lights.
Now,
We just look up,
And smile each night.

Arrogant and ignorant
Reaching for the light,
We merely cracked the clouds
Trying to break the sky.

Uncharted,
Spores sprouting
Into the unfamiliar —
The past a map
Obsolete
For what lies ahead.

A character, an outlier,
A truth too far removed
From comfortable —
Call it what you will,
The problem
Isn't me.

Doubt, the entropy,
Our pillar of uncertainty,
Always there to remind us —
Nothing ever stays the same.

Altars to
The things we lost,
The things we hate,
The things we fear —
Our thoughts, a testament
To the weight
We’ve learned to bear.

Still here,
Not because I
Chose to stay —
I am the one
That never got away.

Learning everything
I found out
Hardly anything is
Worth the paper
The lesson’s written on.
Pride and arrogance,
We follow
Self-centered men and women,
Desperate to make their mark
Before they move on.

Ignorant,
Laughing, playing,
Dancing with
The end among us,
Weaving lives
In knots and ties,
Round and round the start.

To find myself again,
In what's suppressed
And what's forgotten,
What got left behind
And flattened
Under a lifetime of desire
In the little things that haunt me,
In the dreams that slip away
Upon waking
Into who I've never been.

Clouds of essence
Racing the dark —
The nothing exhaled,
And here we are.

Loss
Stripped clean of
Bothersome emotion —
There were casualties.

History laughs at us —
Everything ends,
Yet, we believe
We can change
The way the world is.

The unforeseen trauma
Of primary intention —
Closed wounds that will never heal,
Pain only the silent feel.

The branches we trim
And the nature we nurture
May change our path,
But never that
Of the sun.

Not all is love —
Some are drawn
To fire
Out of an affinity
With ash.

Infant hopes,
Unrecognized,
Dreaming of the day
They'll be acknowledged,
Whispering sweet nothings
In deaf ears —
We are here,
Do not be afraid
To hold our hand
And take a stand
For what you want.