The Celestial Face

Sunrise is the success
of the enlightened eye,
unaware of undeadliness
to motivate the mind.

Tell Me What You Want to Hear

Stand outside yourself.
Watch each self-sabotaging idea you've had in life circle the drain.

Say goodbye to each idea of not being enough:
To the mentality which brought you here to begin with.
To a blackened backbone, charred and weak.
It's not you...

Trust me.

You aren't what you imagine yourself to be.
You're born with the ability:
To overcome the ashes you've set yourself on fire to be.

You can stand outside the drain.
Say goodbye without letting yourself go down.

I Wrote This at 3 AM

Insomniacs;
being over medicated,
abilities underrated.

They're everywhere!

Each hour they lie awake;
a rattle, thoughts of what to do in head.
"I could be more productive at night,
but wide-eyed, I lie awake in bed."

You imagine the banters had today,
how you plan to discuss them tomorrow.
Chatting yourself into the thoughts of disarray.

See them tumble around the brain like laundry.
But one overload and suds spill to the floor.
You wonder how clean, clean can be...

Or when does clean become dirty?
Will your house fill with suds to mop?

Sounds like a fun endeavor, no doubt,
to the most chaotic living creature.
And a word to the wisest souls,
we live to be the creature chaos makes.

There's one detail you should know...

Co-operation acts as the burly key
to tame insomnia's scattered blow.

But hey, what do I know?

Who Cares?

Get the feeling you’re on the wrong planet?
Feel like a perpetual lost puppy?

I’ve been told I took the look a time or two. 
As someone who’s realized
I’ve been lost my entire life.

I know exactly where I’m at.

Somewhere drifting between
this question I ask myself, "Why am I here?"
And this other question
loves to riddle me,"How did I get here?"

As if it wasn't hard enough to exist
without needing a reason!

My mind seems to love giving me a hard time.
Perplexed by an odd anxiety
of feeling like I don't even exist.
I'm some strange vessel of a mind
asking itself useless questions.

Thinking. Thinking. Thinking.
Am I even thinking at all?

Oh boy!
Here comes another brick wall
of impossible answers.
And sometimes you have to say
something to yourself.

Well, I say several things.

No One Here to Help You

My heart needs to catch up with my body.

A slow beat,

a sudden arrhythmia.

I find myself blind and deaf for a moment.

A beautiful idea I had in my head.

This gift of foresight,

clouded by ringing in my ears.

A tone I'm too familiar with

eating at what used to be.

Ambition is what's left of me.

Wishes of what could be.

My head pounding heavy,

my breath shallow.

A feverish breeze of fatigue blows me over.

I,

overcome by an early sense of self.

I once thought I could achieve anything.

As truth has it,

my body won't allow me to achieve what I once could.

What does truth truly know,

when your health forces you to listen to your ego?

It starts with,

I can’t do it all.

And ends with

nothing I can do.