If curiosity killed the cat, then

consideration was the culprit.

there is magic in those moments

first getting to know one another

something is born there

something that pains me to describe

just know mi amor

I hold each and every one of them

like a baby that never grows,

like a rose that never dies—

like magic, we aren’t exactly liars

we just missed the trapdoor

you wake up feeling halfway even

almost like you fit in this place,

your conscience pleads the fifth.

your memory like some orphaned son,

who keeps quiet around everyone—

you walk down sidewalks thinking

forward than it’s back to the past,

your lifetime’s just a myth.

did it start when you were young?

believing you’d outsmart everyone—

it’s your own cruel addiction

holding on to their suspicion,

like two halves being pulled apart.

it’s all you know so it’s just

become the way you are

broke down before it even starts—

you play with people’s feelings

using them to fill in the cracks,

running through your head.

are you good enough for them?

believing that you could fit in.

it’s your lack of intention

becoming part of their invention,

no one is who they say they are.

it’s either on your own

or else entwined in the dark,

like two halves being pulled apart.

it’s all you know so it’s just

become the way you are,

broke down before it even starts.

I can not pretend to be

anything other

than fond of wandering.

Some days lost,

others found.

And whether or not

I’m in or out

the control’s never mine.

In fact, I could be anyone

anywhere—unstuck in time—

with a Pilgrim’s knack

for the ordinary; weak

without a hero’s heart.

Vulnerable enough indeed

to master the art

of a lonesome traveler’s fart—

that he is not, nor ever could be

alone in the universal thread

that is but one common mind,

one common heart, that is

but one common life apart.

That in this very minute

and unlikely space in time

two separate set of eyes

can gaze upon the diamond sky

and see,

one identical night,

alive within the ether

of one identical light

separate, yet one.

You told me to work on myself

If I could I’d be somebody else

Somebody whose actions,

aren’t forms of distraction—

You make it easy to believe

My head’s a wasteland for stupidity

When someone else is the problem,

we spend our life trying to solve them—

I was a sucker and amiable host

It felt like trying to rescue a ghost

All these words for no reason,

just disappear without meaning—

It’s just something you keep for yourself

When it feels like there’s nobody else

Whispering through the silence,

a recipe full of violence—

But the one thing I learned to believe

Is that nothing’s quiet as it seems

The beating drum in the distance,

now I feel it in my chest—

So when you feel almost alone

It’s not a life sentence just pick up the phone

There’s a recording in my head,

it says our time here’s not pointless—

If it feels like talking to yourself

Then you’re probably talking to yourself

Sometimes to answer life’s questions,

the answer’s in your reflection…

You know, I don’t have the answers

but if you want to talk that’d be ok

I’ve got a feeling you’ve grown silent in pain.

I know, it hasn’t been easy

but life just sort of happens that way

my ears are open when you feel you’ve something to say—

there’s static in all of us

for no reason white noise fills the day

like a kid forced to blindly trust

it’s only natural to push them away

perhaps, I just thought

you’d something to say—

You know, perfection’s the opposite

of how I’m feeling today, but it’s pure

like you and I’d have it no other way

I know, my actions don’t reflect

these words but I hope that’s ok

I’ve got a long road home getting further away—

there’s demons in all of us

for a price we keep them at bay

growing up it’s the opposite

now it’s them who push us away

perhaps, I just thought

you’d something to say—

cause it’s lonely and the sun

is calling your name.

Everything

and everyone

you ever loved

will one day

find themselves

at a crossroad—

where you’ll be

standing

pocketing fists

hunched like a Lily,

or else dancing

ripped like paper

on a wall full of flowers

looking lovely—

except they won’t know you

anymore, not anymore

than you know your own self—

cheeks, rosy as embers

the lush on the floor,

I’ll know his name well

you bet I’ll be singing—

So best get to knowing,

before you regret

a lifetime pretending

you’ve remembered only

to forget.