Dont worry your silly basket case brain.
Not one bitter heart is the same as another. The past shows you nothing is impossible to overcome.
The future is where you are, now..
Now… Now.
So keep with it.
Steady the hardship sailing.
Your scars are deep, and your heart is grand, dont leave your loneliness in someone elses hand.
You have two for a reason.
Hold yourself together.
There are moments that feel like a re-run, a bit of de javu, an inkling that you have been here before.
Grab your other hand and hold yourself together, its life repeating making sure youve still got what you overcame.
Its never the same, not one bitter heart.
Dont let that scare you.
There are millions, and at times you are the cherry on top.
But never for long.
Forget the what abouts and grab here i go.
Let yourself run free
Because all you have is the future, which is now.. And now and now.

Welcome to the future.
Youve been here all along,
so may you happily and cherishly carry on.
Happily? Yes.
Dont leave your happiness with a bitter heart, not one is ever the same.
If you stay on course you will never carry a new lesson from the past.
Strengthen the soul, charge thru the repeats; courage keeper.
Break the hand you once held and keep to your own, steal that light back, dont lose focus, keep on track.
You can keep the happy times in a lock box inside your safe, just for good measure; not every accident is worth the risk of pulling over for a look, but there is always something to witness.
See yourself,
Recall your purpose in that short-changed romance.
Attitude-reality check.
Sub to Con.
You were you in times,
Those were great.
Keep it and keep going
Scattered thoughts and moments of silence, serenity and numbness.
A spiral to a tornado to a piece of paper on your face. Dont smoke that with him, you knew that already.
But some history happens for future to fall into place.
Keep reminiscing, the exhaustion of two people and two years bulging from your skull.
Deer in headlights while in some scenes of recall.
Keep going keep going.
Let the seconds slip by till you see the light.
You are gifted, dont you remember?
You can still see the moon from hell, cant you?
If you dont…
Happy Halloween..
History will repeat, the ghosts of your past in a new costume..
What princess were you again as a child?
Ahh Beauty and the Beast, how fitting. Now fix your crown your majesty, the queen of sun and rain.
Trick? or Treat?

Prove to yourself that youve got it again this time around.
Hold yourself together.
You will live for so much more if you let go of the fact that you cant have that time back and just let that head roll.
Allow this awareness of yourself push you and carry that damn lesson like an award, even if the pain still sticks in your side like a shard of metal, a bloody thorn.
He never gave you one single rose, please dont let this bittersweet nothing, hurt you anymore.
A bunch of good for nothing copy n paste.

Sugar me sweet and dearly.
Do you; dolo in your dreams though carrying and being held by your world.
Like the cowardly lion who forgot he always had it in him to conquer and be courageous, until a bit of magic reminded him he was alive..
You have to remember who you are and build a bridge over that hole in your heart.
Give it a moat, an alligator or two.
He will still try to down bunker in it,
So then grab yourself a torch and toss a grenade as you wave goodbye, these small flames of regret will ignite the power inside.
Nothing quite like walking away from an explosion unharmed..
Walking back into your castle, carrying your new basket full of grace.

Mummies a lion

This place im in

Im sitting in the department of transitional assistance office right now.
Chicks in their slippers and kids in their pjs. Its four in the afternoon and 30 something degrees out.
I look around and it makes me feel like trash. A wastecase.
I know im not, im working hard.
I hate that im here,
That i have to be here in order to survive.
I saw a man with a sign on my way to the child care office.
“Jobless need money or work.”
My music blasting dubstep techno,
I barely heard his thank you after i handed him a 5.
He had orange eyes, almost the same color of his beat tims.
I almost felt like his friend.
Like we, in different circumstances could be friends.
Relate to eachother on a soulful level.
Maybe we did.
I wished i had turned down the music, i wouldve liked to really hear his voice after seeing those eyes.
Ive got a thing for voices,
I dont like my own.
A good friend of mine has said that those “homeless/jobless” people arent really what they say they are.
That thats what their job is, to stand there and take peoples money and they get paid for it.
I cant remember what exactly he said but it was something along those lines.
I cant help but get lost in my friends voice and energy sometimes.
I think its that love thing, two connected souls.
I try to listen but he numbs me it feels good. And i also dont wanna hear his somewhat pessimistic ways of thinking. I get too tired to share my optimism. Not in the mood to make a point.
Tho i should be more, with him.
Hes one of my only friends that appreciates what i think.

I saw 3 cruisers on my way here. Three cops standing around this man, one waving his baton. Twisting it around like an umbrella and he was a little girl.
The man with his hands behind his head looked like a character from a movie. A dirty old puffy patriots jacket, beanie on his head and puffy eyes.. pale face and no resistance, just there. Very city slum, living inside his own head, not a care in the world but where he could get his next buck and fix.
There was another man standing off to the side. Older, matching attire to the man being questioned. I bet they were in it together but the elder are less suspicious. That white hair carries respect, something i appreciate about this world and how some things will always remain the same. The older you are, the wiser you must be.
Such an oddful world.
I like making up my own words.
My boss/friend calls them “britisms”.

Ill be old one day, though i pretend its very far away. Im only 22 so in some sense it is a long “time” from now. ((iquote because what is time? but moments strung together in a rhythm we try to follow, always wasting it, wanting it, needing it, wanting to steal it, sleeping it, believing in it or watching it move along ))
But when i wake up one day when im 80, this day will feel like a dream.
Ill remember moments of being here in this office, wishing i could do more for my son and myself but not having the full ability to just yet. I wont remember these peoples faces or that flat screen that ive never seen on. Or the way people look at me when they see i shaved my head, all the length is gone. Its purple today. Yea thats a ring in her nose. ((Little do you know what kind of obstacles im balancing and influence i could have on you, could help you.))
But i hope to remember the power of these moments, the way they make me feel. The helplessness emotion, thats pushing me to want more, to never return to here in need of assistance, and being thankful for what they do, appreciation. and wishing everyone in here the integrity that i can feel inside my bones.
Be worthy