Dead Worlds.

Amnesiac refugee
from a dead world,
swim across
this dark sea,
find another island.

Seed planted,
awaiting its season
for fucking lifetimes,
grounded as it all
falls apart.

Déjà vu.

Like a chasing echo,
a trailing shadow
you just can’t
run away from:

haunting,
possessing
wherever your wandering soul
makes camp.

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Truth.

Test me for faith.

If found, by all means, eliminate.
I need no blind, constipating
platitudes, nor ignorant embrace
and subsequent evangelism.

Truth is fixed
as the target
here. Make no mistakes,
my dear.

Honesty, reality:
this is what I strive for.

Blind,
in silence,
show me, let

me listen to what I’ve been,
so I know

what to veer
from as I
aim for…

Reduced to Impulse.

Makes no sense…
So relentless.

No one could
want this
so fucking much,
right?

Yet there she is
in all her beauty
from the soul
to the skin

(each of which I’m drowning in),

shimmering, beaming,
and she reduces
herself to an impulse…

Control.
All just to control.

Aims of manipulation.

In the process,
betraying
such weakness…

Set Daze.

No.
Yes.
The noose
of maybe.

Not my taste.
Not this time.
Armed with limitations,
drawn the line. Still

in control,
so fuck you.

Regardless of my act,
gravitating towards
what forever imbues,

enticed passed
event horizon,
no turning back now:

spehgehettified
straight into the eye

of this hypnotic cyclone,
unwavering gaze…
so hopelessly mesmerized.

Set daze.
Set: my days

unless I can somehow manage
to turn back the hands of this clock
or burst free from the aggressive
pull of fantasies and this grip of my …

Call to Falsify.

Do you only confuse my mind,
feed me these lies,
to manipulate

me, or are you trying
to open my eyes,
inspire self-honesty

in my approach to my true spectrum
of choice,
of probability:

degrees of difficulty inherent
in the paths
left for me 
here in this dismal reality,

providing a basis
upon which I can recognize
the options that exist betwixt
extremes, polarities

— the paths
of least and greatest
resistance —

so as to at least have a hope
in their mythological hell
of choosing wisely?

I just don’t know anymore, standing,
shaking on this unstable ground,
confused as to who to trust,
deeply questioning
everything.

My mind has consistently failed
me, leaving me hanging,
as if from a noose.

So have you.

For all I know, I’m totally
crazy,
and you’re both the same. 

Leave me
with something worth weighing,
evidence to tip the scales
one way or the other

to falsify this lingering allegation
in my head that I lost
my mind long ago:

that I am merely
hallucinating,
delusional,
self-blind
and hopelessly
insane.

Don’t Blink.

Missing time.
Lost mind.
Quickly, I strive

to gather up the pieces,
trap them in amber,
bookmark the moment
to help me remember,

anchor the remnants
through ink:
and swiftly, faithfully.

No distractions.
Don’t you dare breathe.
No:
don’t you fucking blink.

It’s like trying to grip
a hold of water,
like chasing down
a fading dream,

only in this case
it certainly seems
to be sprinting away
with a haunting urgency,

leaving me
with next to nothing.

Another battle lost
in the war to remember.

What do I bury? What hells
are you hiding in me?

I have a need to know.

Upsides and Downsides of Spoilers.

Face it:
we’re on our last leg,
trembling, wobbling
to and fro.

Yeah, yeah. Admirable balance so far.
Congrats. Now, spoiler alert:
nonetheless, we’re all doomed to fall.

Would it make a difference
if we gazed
up and deep into the cosmos
and realized

that here, on our lush island,
we are not only
not alone but not at all unique
in the way we fall?

It’s sad,
but they say misery
loves company…

Still: disclosure
could serve as a wake-up call —
but don’t you dare
hold your breath, as that time, 
it will never come…

Ode to Mysteries (and the Fruitless Depths and Lengths of Our Labors).

“If only logic
and science governed
the way we live our lives.” 

If only the cosmos
as we have defined it
would comply. 

If only experiment
and study 
could falsify
the source of our fears

and verify our lingering hope
that our investments
here are not all in vain.

Yet here we are, stonewalled,
all for your lack of trying.
So help us. Pretty please. 
We’re lost here, left screaming. 

By your torch of doubt,
this pathway
is indeed the most promising,
but trust
has yet to be earned,

core claims remain
that have as of yet failed
to accumulate sufficient merit.

Truth remains an elusive beast
and greater understanding
would appear to require
a diverse, bulging
package

of wrong turns
and wasted time
as we circle cul-de-sacs
and weave 

mindlessly through silly
labyrinths:
an enduring journey complicated
with seemingly run-on
misadventures

that bear not the vaguest
semblance of fruit
despite the sheer lengths
and depths of our labors. 

Open up.
Swallow this.
That’s it: take it,
feel it,
listen to us.

You know you like it.
Admit it, you’re curious.
This is interesting.
The greatest puzzle.

Certainly
a mystery
worth solving.