one moment to the next

days spent on the seat of a wishing well
while hours burn in yearning

time is sweet fiction
awaiting plot's slow dictation

growing deep within
meek roots seep through sullen soil to find a centered ground

breath and stride at face pace
anxious to run and leap toward an unknown

beyond fleeting moments of gratification

surpassing the intertwining matters of the beating heart

eclipsing the dreams of carefree endless juvenescence

a final and first step
the shrouded road being laid out with each tread
one moment to the next

yesterday

untouchable youth

resilient and determined

invincible beyond wildest belief

heading no caution

walk the path. toe the line. tread the deep.

foolish stride

We'll never ever know...

how long must you wait for the storm to finally pass through? seems an eternity has crept by, and all the while the shore slipping away with the constant slamming of swells.

how can the bird fly when its feathers were destined to burn and fade?

how can the tree grow when its leaves were destined to be pruned even before they had the chance to unfurl ?

rising up with force for an untouched, untainted beginning. out stretched arms to pierce though the glass cage laid out before birth.

no longer willing to be bound up with your past. you laid your paths out they way you both chose and mine will not be swayed by yours. change is never to far out of your grasp. but i will not be there to help extend the reach...its now my own turn to lay my path.

i miss u mrs manale.

constant beating. uncontrollable and relentless. bringing with it the ripping apart of the face, forcing the breath just out of reach.

sense of longing and desire of aversion lay in the same bed.

tearing the path from within to streak the skin.

clutching skin and contorting body

relentless waves flowing over and atop one another.

release. release. release.

but it never ends

Old writing

I recently went on an excavation excursion to that failed time-tested social gathering of "myspace" and read my old blogs. During this jaunt I uncovered a treasure trove of lost thought and emotions . Even though the people and things masked by my, at best "illusive" and "concealing", style of writing have long since dissipated I decided to post one of them. enjoy.

"torn? "
Current mood:selfishly confused

feeling torn between two things that i am both without.

waiting at a cross road and having to choose a pathway but the roads only exist in a dream...a mirage. and with the morning i discover neither routes lay ahead.

left standing in a room with two locked doors to which i have foolishly gambled away the keys.

my heart lacks the luxury of choosing one door or the other. i closed and chained them both out of my own will and discretion...in doing so i unfairly wounded those on the other side without warning.

phantom urges and desires that have long past onward...
but they each return so frequently.

reaching across for something that is no longer there for me to embrace and fall back on. yet the lingering remnants of these connections feel as real and present as the earth beneath my feet.

i find myself questioning both

was one just a temporary replacement for the other? am i feeling the need to retrace steps to only fill a void?

i am not depressed. rather the word that comes closer but does not describe my state is "yearning". but for which door or road i am not sure.

and with these questions and statements i find again that i have not the keys nor ability to move towards an answer.

if i sound crazy its probably because i am.

Sometimes you can catch people just like you catch a bad cold. They sneak up on you when you're not focused and attack. Then, in what seems like a never ending effort to break you down, they just linger and linger. Leaving your body riddled sickness. Every corner aches to dispel the nasty little virus.
People like that need to be removed from your life. lol