Fear Becomes Your Noun

Let me become the character of my choosing;

not falling prey to the world you own.

Making the world of my choice,

I become something that I was meant to be.

And here I sit—

Exactly where I am suppose to be

Exactly who I am

Exactly who I intend to be.

Does that mean

comfort becomes my ally,

casting fear into the wake

of what my past has given,

what  I  am taking now,

and what the future intends to give circumstance?

Still silence enveloping what only I can see,

What I want to see

and what you don’t want to see—for that matter.

don’t refuse to back away

even as Fear becomes your noun,

the motivator for your decision,

or indecision of your choosing.

Don’t let the silence eat you,

like so many others.

it’s what is said and done that you see.

But choosing not to see beyond your eyes,

like the façade of brittle, useless words—

manically strong in the pit of your stomach.

They will

determining who you are.

Fall into the Path

What would your world be

Without those indigestible ingredients

That rip out your heart

And take a peace of your soul

To wander the streets waiting

For the rest to someday follow.

Not in the path of the lonely

But that of the strong.

Emptiness beats in that broken chest sealing

the new configuration of what you are meant to become

Free will? To that of the stars

And the fall of the tallest tree

Sounding nothing like the fallen

In a roughly dense forest

Fall and expect the unexpected.
Except the things that you cannot change,

Change the things within your ability to do so.

You cannot

change the opinions of others;

you certainly cannot

undo those moments past.

Your moments of great weakness

Turn into memories of strength –

A god-like strength so large

That no other could comprehend. 

"What If"

You will always wonder
"what if"
Just as if it was meant to be.
As if something belonged
Embraced by your soul
Looking out for who you
Are now
and what you intend
To become.

You know no more
Than the length of your breath
Or the wink of your eye.
Intentional or involuntary
Such is a movement
Like the holding of another's hand.

It hurts right now--
Those feelings of misunderstanding
And longing. The love that
You once felt
Knowing that those feelings
Must change.
Not knowing
What tomorrow may bring
Always wishing for moments of
Changing the yesterday.

Reach your hand out. 
and grasp
At those moments that belong
To all of your today's and
Tomorrows. Because
The control is not yours
It never was.

White Elephant

A door has opened

And you are all alone

Alone by yourself

Awestruck by the loss of possibilities

And you wonder if you are really

Alone

In a world full of people

Interested in themselves

Uninterested in you

In nothing other than selfishness

Incapable of understanding

Clairvoyance

Clearly connecting yourself to that

White Elephant

Conveying your voice to a

Consciously confused

Crowd

And all you truly want

Is the undeniably

Conscious response,

“Yes. I heard you.”