Screaming all the passion out.
Living lonely in a crowd.
Chewing on compassion strings.
Tired jaws and melting wings.
Standing on the dusty edge the road behind it twists and bends a single cloud hangs overhead dropping rain in scattered brains.
Seeping through to stir the system.
Never winning. Always listening.
Like walking on an escalator.
Standing clueless thought conveyor.
Drifting through with blinded eyes no smile mind is preaching lies feeling nothing chest concave broken breathing weeping waves.
Sometimes you just cant stop the rain.
Only grab a brush and paint the pain.
Inter wrists of pacifists.
Last in lasting answers fit.
Land in landing planning wits.
That strike the sun with angry fists.
Sam for something sam in pants.
Stand for nothing. Only this.
That in which the love exists.
The place I lived.
The kind that make you lose your mind.
Reprise edition unrefined.
Existing only by design.
But outside that we house affliction.
At times addiction.
Inspired by the nervous system.
All that we are.
Is our ambition.
To leave a footprint with conviction.
How we can make eachother feel nervous.
And make eachother feel purpose.
Connections they live and continue to give.
Is seen by the eye who beholds it.
Molding the new into old.
Oh so slowly.
The speed is between the foreseen and belief.
Expectations embracing the evil in feet.
Walking is dreaming and stagnant’s a thief.
Finding that reason.
Is all you will need.
The only thing is love.
Our shoes wear strings to hold us in tight.
Falling moments ignited by light.
So strange that as creatures.
We walk with a feature.
For shortness of breath.
While breathing is sweeter.
Into the blue.
The paint riding brushes.
Erupting in touching our brains to our stomachs in flux interruptions and hungriness functions.
Absorbing distraction attracting reaction the sound satisfaction relaxes the action.
A fraction of time and a head lost in lines from the poet divine and her beautiful mind.
Theres a word he said that made me feel.
The chance to make them feel was real.
The colors speak the world we see.
You give we give we live for free.
So many things the greatest gifts the things that make our weaving twist the moves that make us not resist the urge to make our dreams exist.
So many thoughts.
The moneys lost.
We sold less than the stock we bought.
We didnt cover what it costs.
To live to set your feelings off.
Get ready in steady with levees that shake.
Expecting the levees get heavy and break.
Ahead of the race.
Swimming through clouds with incredible pace.
Wearing a cape we imagine our calling.
Flying with wax til the sun wishes falling.
Illness is the greatest gift.
The kind that makes your eyelids lift.
The kind that lets your living shift.
Makes you grateful you’ve been sick.
Medication facing patience.
Patients wait maintaining cadence.
Favorite feeling combinations.
Illness is the greatest nerve.
The kind attached to every word.
The kind of ill that smiles serve.
Forever changed in every curve.
A reflection of days.
With inspection they say,
the impossible may.
Just reasonably doubt any moves that we’ve made.
The life and times is the truth that we save.
Unbreakable broken alive on the waves.
Awaken with motives the vibe is insane.
Providing the sun when the worlds dreaming rain.
Horns and dancing instantly.
Moving door the symphony.
Wings on wally.
Elation chasing gaining speed.
Make me laugh its what I need.
On the laughter.
Hungry always faster teeth.
Wrapping love around your feet.
Since the moment is gone.
The chorus fell.
And although the road ends itself.
We will always know just how it felt.
Walking art the people walk.
Hearts arrive with hearts that talk.
Rubber romance and soothing thoughts.
Breaking free in different patterns cordially with dreaming spasms waking up creation atoms.
We all need to breathe in our own weather.
This alone binds us together.
Love is lungs our minds are feathers.
Alive are many thoughtless words that make the brain think its absurd and furthermore the pens a verb awake with means to move the nerves.
Escaping self comes back around to weave through ears without a sound cause often simply lifting crowds is how we keep our dreams around.
The reaching is our respiration.
Brain relies on innovation.
Every words a proclamation.
We will never quit creation.
Impossible to hate.
The archer is erased.
The dusty road the man he walked.
Until he found a river to cross.
He found the one to build his bridge.
And now he knows the bridge exists.
The river under flows with magic.
The river under flows so tragic.
Passion wild two reflections.
Past the mild introspection.
Once the toll is paid to cross.
Walkers are together lost.
Even when the road seems senseless.
Every steps a smile relentless.
The river flows inside the veins.
Leaving all forever changed.
The grand emotions start a war.
Though at the end the love endures.
The grand emotions spin within.
The walkers walk til spinning gives,
Them shoes to cross their bridge again.
Vision makes friends with ears sometimes when color drips into the eyes and rip through nerves at every turn the body learns to love observe.
Her footsteps sing the chorus falls.
The instrument is in her walk.
Freedom and love in vision.
Feathers in flight like a head dress of sight.
Leos and Cancers just looking for answers.
The world is a question.
Lyrical hugs and women in love.
With eachother and us.
The spiritual tug.
Fear is undone in the branches above.
Tangled like brains and roots made of doves.
Flight of the breathing.
Understanding is where the heroes are kneeling.
Visible peaks and dreams without sleep.
The only fulfillment is taking the leap.