present tense

I would have loved to blame everything on myself just because you told me to,

just because you tell me to-

but it has gotten to the point where I need you to stop talking because your words cloud what I see.


and for some reason you told yourself that, you tell yourself that-

and each time it’s said more loudly but I know that if you were right you wouldn’t need to yell, I would hear you in the silence.


the child within me resists with fierce opposition

– this is a revolution of mind,

an uprising.


I was never fully responsible for everything, but I carried it anyways.

and now I shed unnecessary weight to find strength you didn’t want me to realize,

strength I didn’t realize I have always had.

and there are others like me who didn’t realize their strength,

who are awakening to find they can uplift each other.

we are elevated but not above, effected but not affected, there but not their.

not yours to keep, to buy, to borrow, or own.


I am my own creation, and I am endlessly creating the future as long as I stay reinventing myself.

this is true art- this balance between lucid creativity and consciousness.

my own essence flows and I direct it where I need to go-

without resistance keeping me in place.



It seems like in life I’m constantly undergoing metamorphosis- always transforming before your eyes until you don’t recognize my form. Lately what was once plump is weaning, the bottom of my shoe is peeling and I can feel the concrete. When I talk you’re like, “what?” and I’m starting to realize it’s not me, it’s you.
You wouldn’t be able to understand because you don’t want to.

I’m stuck in traffic because you’re always under construction and I’m always waiting for the summer to end only to realize it’s just begun.

It’s only just begun- and every day is a new beginning I’m not sure that I’m ready for. I’m undressing without a change of clothes- I’m naked and vulnerable. Your hands touch me but I feel nothing..

Nothing at all. I feel for something pure and all I feel is the grainy feeling of dirt between my finger tips. Who knows what is real- who is to say what is and what isn’t? Who really knows?

All I know is that I’m starting to lose touch and I escape to where my dreams feel more like reality. I hold on to the edge of my seat in suspense- hoping I won’t fall off.

Hoping I won’t fall off.. but I’m running in circles and I’m trying to stop- this momentum has me spinning and my dizzy eyes see fractals where order should be. but it’s only just begun-

it’s only just begun.. and I’m nauseous. My insides turn and stomach acid dissolves whats left until there is nothing but damaged stomach lining..
Nothing left.. And it’s only just begun-

It’s only just begun.. And dear god I’m holding on-

I’m holding on to nothing but my own grip.

Do you think a caterpillar recognizes itself after it has become a butterfly? Who really knows?



when I write I realize there’s really no point at all and I don’t really know where I’m at. All I know is that it’s been a long time since I sat, always jogging and sometimes in place but there’s built up residue from years of shame and I feel like I shouldn’t have came. I’m looking for someone to blame but maybe it’s not anyone’s fault.. I’m grasping for support as I fall and they say “be an adult.” I was late with good intentions and my face is hot. I’m sitting inside of a boiling pot and I’ve been steaming for so long I’ve burnt. In a room full of mannequins– all these people I thought were real, weren’t. There are no walls where I reside, I’m in a penitentiary of mind, I’m searching for my sanity like it’s the key– but I ate it up and swallowed it inside of me. I’m pushing metal through my intestines hoping the pain is worth being free.


Learning to love myself in a self transformational way. Always growing every day. I’m realizing that I was always okay, I’m fucking great. I’m getting out of my own way and into a new one where I say what I need to say and do what needs to be done. I’m ready to evolve and become who i need to be, blind your eyes like the eclipsed sun.

things my dad taught me

You need to stay. You need to learn as much as you can. You will thrive if you try. You will succeed in every way you want to. Life is a struggle but it is so beautiful there is a story to be told and we all know we secretly love suspense.. You are a character and you will play your part. You will feel everything there is to feel. Become the ebb in the flow, remain structured within the chaos, give what is taken. No feeling is forever, all that you are is transient. Everything fluctuates. Focusing on the end point will only lead to failed expectations, it will only prevent you from becoming who you need to be in this moment.. You don’t know what is going to happen in life, all you will ever truly know is yourself. All you are is this moment in time. Reconnect with the moment, follow the current and you will realize you are not separate from the current it is part of you. You will flow where you need to go if you relax and let yourself drift. You don’t write the story of life, you are an actor and there is a greater story to tell. You can stay stagnant or you can grow. Listen to your body and you will know where to go. You can’t truly know yourself unless you love yourself. You must let yourself make mistakes, you must let yourself fail, and you will learn.. That is the only way to learn. You will learn to let go of anything that feels forced. You will learn to become connected with the world.. you will find your destination if you just keep walking. Life is beautiful and you are meant to be here. 

“Time waits for no one”

Art from the manga Uzumaki by Junji Ito

Who knows what I’ll become after this and who knows if I’ll change for the better. Who knows where I’m going if I’m not leading the way. Zombified and tongue tied; I’m stagnant and I can’t move my body but I am pulled forward by vibrations and electricity. it’s moving through my body like I’m so functional, I am the fucking function. What time is it? I’m standing here going through the motions, standing at the bus stop and I don’t really know what day it is or where I’m going but I’m here, waiting.

Art from the manga Uzumaki by Junji Ito

swim is tired of swimming

We are influenced by chemicals and we don’t understand why we are the way we are but we know how we feel. and after inhaling gas fumes and chemicals in plastic bottles that we can’t pronounce the names of we are hacking up blood and phlegm. You never understood why you were the way you were all you know is that your brain needs drugs for things that others don’t. It’s your brain chemistry or something. 

When you hear them talk about your brain damage it all feels unreal, like something from a textbook you don’t really understand. Things like serotonin deficiency, synapses, and neurotransmitters and all you know is how it feels. all you know is the electricity pulsing through your skull and you are tired of the push and the pull, you’re trying to walk straight but you can’t see clearly through the frozen cold window. Everything is opaque, vague, and borderline meaningless and you’re just looking through the glass into a world you are detached from. Warm fingers press against an icy window and you can finally return to your body but you’re numb. You can see through the holes you’ve created. My doctor told me there are holes in my brain where connections used to be. He shows me a photo and this doesn’t really seem like an actual part of me but I can feel it’s effect..

What is my true identity? All I am is what I’m made of.. a set of chemical reactions and an interconnected network of neurons. it’s becoming hard to feel in control and who knows if time can truly heal. you know I’ll pick the scab until it’s bleeding. Impatient always and my doctor would say it’s because of the dopamine produced in my brain but all I know is that nothing seems to work for me. 

and you know what? we poisoned ourselves with our own ignorance. Indulgent and dumb, we took all that we could when it was there only to puke it back up again. And it’s another day, and you’re having another mental breakdown in a bathroom stall. And the world is beautiful in the way that nobody cares at all.. Dancing with doom and it seems to be fate, but I hate that. There seems to be a flow to life, an interconnected nature of reality which draws us towards the future and who knows if anything is real but I’m searching for it. You can feel purity when you touch it. When I find it I’ll know by how it feels.