Free your mind to free your soul to free your heart to clear your lungs, to clear your eyes, to clear your life.

You hold the key to the past, present, future. You are who you are, what you will be, what you want to be, who you aspire to be. Don’t stop, don’t regret, don’t beat yourself up, and keep moving forward, keep tasting the air for new things, keep reaching for the stars, keep trying to launch yourself at the universe, not just the sun. 

Thank you, mom. I know how hard it must be to have me. I love you. I wouldn’t be here today if you didn’t push through for 9 months and years after that.

Come find me
In between spaces
You’re all I seemingly
Wanted and needed
Wrapped in a blanket
In my head
Swimming all
Voice and hair
Tangled in the air
With one eager kiss
Set back from all
This.

**

Yes, it’s worth dwelling on for a while. Perfectly valid, if you ask me.

If my thoughts were sand, it would cover the earth. There are dunes of it. Golden and burning under the magnificent sky—breathing; the sun a sight to behold—the horizon sizzling and crackling with every passing of the wind; you are a sight to behold.

Alas, I find myself, floating. Take me back to the beach, where the water is cold and the sun reflected off your eyes. Take me back to the shore, where the silence was gratefully taken in, simmering, inside labyrinths of machinery. My clockwork rusting with every wave of your voice when it resounded past my ears—keep talking, I whispered—you didn’t hear me. You wouldn’t hear me. I couldn’t hear me.

So tell me, why there are layers and layers of silence over the noise? Tell me why there are layers and layers of brick and tar and concrete and scrap metal, in all shapes and sizes, and tell me why it’s shut? There is a box inside there that is held shut so tight—what is it you’re hiding it from? What made it this way?

Wolfen—you are wolfen and rare and extravagant—you are harsh and wounded and complicated.
Where are you? I can’t find you. Your walls hide you from view. I can’t hear you. I don’t know you.

Please don’t waste the daylight.

+

Sometimes, it just takes one song to make you write and write and write.

A resolution, my brain decides, fighting this maelstrom of thoughts and somehow you resonate through every cavity of my skull. Notes push through and a rhythm, a bump, thump, thump seize every word and disrupts the jury and the judge. Disrupts the signals back and forth. Rewire and restart, rewire and restart, can’t keep with the time, the clockwork’s malfunctioning. To disappear or not to disappear? You’re a headfuck.

Poetry time.

I find myself in tatters,
my brain convulsing,
every word a pain to yank
out of my mouth,
to reach your ears.

I seldom understand myself
Because, I am not myself
You see, at moments
When you see me

Yes, it turns
A rivet in my bones
Collapsing and crashing
Into my rib cage

IMPOSSIBLE!
You say
POSSIBLE!
I say

and here comes the riddles left and right and over and under
and somehow in the middle of it all
I find myself still in wonder, wonder, what glorious wonder

It’s so very, very, very noisy
Inside this body, body, body
Where in there’s a melody,
Soft and tainted

Is trying to escape me.
Until it grows into the beating of a thousand
Drums, it will remain
The same in this tiny

Hungry heart. 

**

My love is selfish and intense, possessive, and obsessive. It can be proud, and callous at times—but it will never give up, my dear. …It’s not perfect, but it tries. It’s not everything, but it is something. Take it or leave it, hang it in a corner and miss it.

I haven’t written in ages. It needed to be written. My soul wanders sometimes.