allthatwander

What is a cold night alone but an opportunity for reflection? Each gift presented both hands out by whatever force chose to convey this new perspective. Wanted or not should bettering oneself not be of the utmost importance?

Time is slick like the underside of a stone left in water until picked up by one without a home don't let go yet, it's important to hold on like limpet's grip don't try to unload off the dock yet or your fingers purchase will slip so hold on until inevitable, always sure, with a look both rude and yet demure keep me waiting my lips painting pictures for empty rooms to entertain and so to rain do I consign the foreseeable future in my time line you ask after my condition I'll just say just fine but it should be known by now that I just lie I'm sitting back, high, uncaring and rather unconcerned by what could be called the siren's call outside

Still waiting for something that makes me feel like a real person Here in my room with my safe space I am in control but as soon as I leave I am at the whim of the world around me

These tired feet have seen Better days but not for a while What's the point of instability That never ends? I'm tired So sick of the suffering That gets shoved in front Of my face each day I hope it ends soon, because The whole world needs to Stop hurting for a few minutes so we can think

What fury that forged me is not yet burnt out and I let my words flow like water from the spout I might shout get real pissed and try to dismiss all these cold wind kissed lips but it's bliss that I'm chasing with both hands behind my back because I can't seem to figure out a plan of attack off my tracks but the track marks are faded so far stay faded stay right back don't ride in my ark because I'm slicker than fresh fat and untouched by the frost I'll just laugh like an asshole and leave my hair tossed thrown back in the wind like I'm sure of myself and stare at the memory like a frame on a shelf mental health is a balance game and I'm losi

A pile of stems three feet tall sitting in a plastic tub that makes me think of toys contained in childhood but contains a joy more adult and suited to my current location The sounds of scissors and rustling leaves of friends and sort-of friends gathering for an annual meeting of sore wrists and strong scents of making new ways to imbue or imbibe or inhale jars and bottles and bags and cans appear from basements and closets and boxes left under stairs to contain in stages the results of months of work to be distilled by the sounds of snipping into the solid, the real Weeks pass and the pile is refreshed and refreshed again, the scissors he

A mountain is near visible from where I lay my head to sleep and yet out of reach until one day in the company of two people I don't like one I know fairly well one I hardly know and one person I love I put one booted foot in front of the other for several hours The summit was not near the treeline still just behind or just below depending on your perspective and having left a member of the expedition on the rocks (uninjured despite claims to the contrary)             near where I saw my very first mountain goat we walked an alpine meadow steeply crossed with gravel that slid down the rest of the mountain like the no

What is a reason to continue in this vein because at this point in my life the only way I am headed is down