Wandering

Book I: Swept Up Plastics

It couldn't help itself
It floated down the river and bled into the night sky
It's voice echoed, echoed, echoed
It's words scattered across the trees and ponds
Until the words found themselves
The sound reverberates off the dirt floor
Reaches its ears
The thought came across like thunder
And its fingers slipped to the knife
Slid down the stairwell into the basement
Then asked everyone for a reason, a reason to believe, a reason to wonder, a reason to love
It was the last thing it could do
To save their sanity out of the deep dark hole
It swept the room
It graced the stage in order to find a followed beat a rest, a heart, a breath
These small plastic bottles all over the floor
Are shattered like glass
When you walked in with a smug look
You grabbed me by the throat
And called me nobody
Even though you never bothered to ask me My name
You were too stoned to find the heart
To tell me what I deserved to hear
This is just you
A far fetched fellow with too much gray in the brain
This isn't a livelihood we were made to live
But it was a brotherhood of civilized manners and excused answers
That came along with the questions
You asked for my thoughts
You asked for my worries
But you didn't know that I forgot how to count the blessings I had
I went to Sunday school
But I couldn't remember the sandbox
On the other hand I could remember sin
It wasn't fun
Until someone came in and told me I could leave
But then you came to tell me your wishes
Your wishes were dumb
It was pointless
It crashed with the tidal wave
And imprinted it's mark on my heart
Like the sound of a flowing river
It bled
Into the stars
Echoes
Book II: Our Voices

"A small thought," I said,
"Bearing small secrets on our sleeves like it was a heart."
“Maybe it was an issue” you said,
"A sweet dialect that hurt my ears
It made me blush but, I thought my ears were bleeding."
With fury, I yelled, "when did your purpose turn into a popularity contest
A mellowed out perspective of the right and the wrong
You knew the things that made you weep
Now you pretend they don't exist anymore."
You just stood there confused and scared
I walked away and I didn't fear the dark halls again.
Book III: 3:43AM March, 23rd

The hanged man
That's what the tarot card read
Whispers of someone slipped through the tent
Blew out the candles
And left the eerie light yet again
She was a restless fire
A small amount of salt in drinking water
The blood ran down her skirt
And drained through the valley
Sadly the sheep were hurt badly
And a tidal of depression washed over her
Drowned
She accepted it
The red searing hand was still there
After all these years
An abusive friend saw her there
The light left her skin
Her lips tinted blue
Tear streaks forever there on her face
We never saw him again
The tent was left there
Empty yet again
Book IV: The Outcast Screams,

“How could I leave the curtain unattended
Leave you alone
In a car, In a basement, In a classroom
It was only a big mistake
But maybe I was the mistake
I am fine with that though
Because I am always a foreigner wherever I go
I wonder about your thoughts
Your cares”

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