How It’s Seen – Blurry Visions
Talking about life
From my point of view
Memories of moments much happier
Skipping, carefree, pure laughter
I forget its sound
The voices in my head scream aloud.
And as every round goes higher
So do the walls that block my heart
Columns turn into towers.
And I can hardly glimpse the flowers from this vantage point
But up here I am up close and personal with God
A covering for the tears that endlessly fall
Watering my world below
Which no matter what
Seems to grow.
Or at least been this un-ended inspiration to the scheme of things
I stopped talking about the dreams that I begged and dared to come into
Fruition and existence
Because it seemed the more I spoke.
The more the opposite came about
I’d projected something other than right out
And now I am writing out
Spills and chills and dips of my soul’s barometric readings
There has been silence
So that this pain won’t leak out
And so I stand commissioned
To give my truth from this high distance
As not to wash out the color of the moon
With my ashen black blues
My hues are all askew.
Nothing appears as it is supposed too
Leaving us all assholes
Very similar to opinions
We all have one that differs
But oh so similar to those that see my tears’ stains
Falls of cascading rain
From high up close to the heavens of this earth.
The places where soul is free to just breathe in all that is
Pure and lovely
No fear of being burned
No fear of being cut
No fear of pain and hurt
But I am asking for
Open spirit so that I may today be restored
To some semblance of order.
Not left with indecision
Because I cannot see through the storm my mind has created
I want to stand and be the sun
Sing at the moon’s lighting
Run free as the leaves fall from trees in the breeze
As careless as the crest of a waterfall.
I want to float like air molecules
Where Ever I choose
I am where I am now
Because of choice
And no matter what the feeling
These words are my verse
Until my heart stops beating.
My chapters are not complete
And I don’t want to continue to fear the dreaming
Missing what’s left to create
I am stepping down from the tower
Giving Myself Back
I choose…to let those things that were and are
At this second
I am Not