“Untitled”

I like to see a diary of poetic thoughts, like little snapshots of someone's view on the world around them and their own part in it. I especially like your last entry because its so for now

""Each child holds the world in an open hand to mould it into any shape they choose.""

thank you sorceress

I have been thinking about forgiveness and my obsession with perfection, they are all just means of my protection. It is what makes us man, and why life began. It brings about an altered state, and what leads us to our eternal fate.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

I may be thousands of miles from my hometown, but strangely l feel as if there is force calling me to stay. With every step in this place my home back in Michigan becomes a distant memory. There is a voice calling me; it is a motherly voice, calming, but at the same time powerful and persistent. This place is so different from what I am use to. It’s a slower paced kind of life, of which the generations before me have spoken.
Today I took a stroll down by the sea. I let the salty breeze run through my inner most depths. The cold seawater rolls over my skin washing away all existence of urban life. I watched as the crabs crawled under their rocks seeking shelter from my step. Life is so fragile and will every moment I spend here I see that.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Watch the world through untainted eyes, through crooked crooks and liars lies, see the world’s indistinguishable splendor, see the colors as the render, contemplate our very existence, start the resistance, think about the flowers, and forget the passing hours, set the pace, because this life is our only race.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

I am in my place where my soul resides, beneath the stars where I may hide, on a cloud of love, riding the back of an angelic dove, looking back at myself through your eyes, Wondering what lays beyond the black and blue skies, at the place where my soul resides.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Sinking into the comfort of my bed, with thoughts running wild in my head, how to pay the bills, how to climb all these insurmountable hills, so many tasks ahead, so many things I dread, I understand this ordeal, but I also appreciate lives appeal, so tonight I will just drift away, carried away on a dreams sleigh.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Staring beyond what my eyes can see
trying to make one desperate plea
standing at a point where tracks meet the earth
see what I am really worth

the ground is so hard and cold
it’s sad because everything has already been sold
no more land to go and hide
no where to go and open up my stride

I will go to my secret place
where life goes by at a slower pace
I will lower my eyes
and smiling at all the lies.

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Someone once asked me “what is love”
I told them that this was a question I could not answer
For love has no singular answer as that of a question on a test.
Love is different for everyone
Some seek lust, some pursue passion, some long for friendship, others may request devotion
But no matter what you are looking for the only thing you want is to be happy

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"

Ice so black it burns the soul, lies are darker than the blackest coal, hiding in a world unraveled, the only option is to take the road less traveled

""Man is least himself when he talks in his own person. Give him a mask, and he will tell you the truth" -oscar wilde"