It'd be Nice.

I must be out of my mind,
To imagine these things,
All intertwined.
I return each night hoping you’ll see me,
Maybe you’ll find…

And oh, the daily grind,
Not the beans,
I’d like to unwind,
Can I just have all for myself
A piece of your mind?

In your mind,
On my mind,
In your mind,
I won’t mind.

Perhaps I’m blind,
I just hear you sing
All the time inside my mind,
Id steal you away and you won’t even mind.

If I gave a sign,
Some signal,
Symbol of some kind, will it be in time,
To listen, to resign?

If I wrote some line,
To hide in this mask,
Stare from behind, if the system aligns,
Could you drop me a line?

In your mind,
On my mind.
In your mind,
I won’t mind.
In your mind,
On my mind.
In your mind,
All the time.

Something.

Yours is the first face I have seen. Eights aligned followed by pegasus after I drove by your home. I had cried but now we're here and i'll just hide again.
Something still draws me near. Something strangely attractive. Something that i've given up on before but keep returning to in my subconscious. It strangles me in my sleep through my dream catcher using my pillow. And when I awaken, like an accidental lover, it disappears from the mistake personified by my body.
Something in your voice, something in your drunken ways, a music resonating in the chambers of my soul. You show up by association at the most obscure moments. Your something is everywhere. On the streets, in my car, in my coffee, on and on. It distracts and disturbs. Saves and protects. Such division with such consistency.
I am recklessly abandoning these inhibitions of mine. I have a quiet love for these things. It is deep and it lingers on. I am in love with the brotherhood. I am in love with the spectacles. With the addiction. The sound of your spirit. I am in love between the pages and only there.
-A

Failing.

This act of pretending isn't working for me.
I've tried to ignore your self-determined disappearance for days now and I can't put myself under such strain anymore.
I can't put it into words.
There is no string of letters and spaces to convey how sorry I am and how many questions are in my mind.
Overactivity.
It hits me in waves suddenly. In the car, on my way to sleep. Wonder surrounds with where you are now. Are you in a sleepy, coma like state? Are you forever evaporated in the clouds? Or, my greatest fear, far more suffering than imaginable. And yet I do. I imagine for endless hours instead of resting. Instead of eating. Instead of doing what I should- mourning.
I question how to do this though. So used to helping myself by helping those around me but I can't do that now. Just quietly bow my head. Wipe my eye. Stand back up. Move along.
Like Public Transit.
360 miles from where I could help or be near those who understand. How do I do this here?
How do I celebrate you or question you or mourn you or do anything?
How do I move along?

-A

The Quiet Love

I have spent some amount of time trying to count and combine, while ticking clocks resound ticks and tocks but all i've found is my soul with holes like old socks. But is there any soul that is complete? Except Ghandi and Mamaji?
Who am I, really?
What do I need?
There's the person I am, and the human shrouded in robot seed, that's the one you see. Hidden from even the closest.

The wind and moon call for some peace tonight. They remind me over space and time of the fragility of life. Millions of tons of metal fly down the drive. But if he felt any love then he'll go to the Nation In The Sky, he's already there, he'll paint until it's dry.

"i have a quiet love for you, old friend." the kindest words i've ever read.

-A

Intrigue.

New Old Friend.
Beginnings thrown with endings.
An attempt is made to step back from mutual magnetism.
There is another. Posterity. She is you and she is not.
There is a side of us, unseen to any else. The Mutual Magnetism. A yearning. A throbbing. A concern.
Finding amongst rootless words a chemical compound. A method for disaster and madness and copulation. A flex and release of muscle in my eyes and thighs.
And I simply can't get enough. I have missed the attention. I have missed security. The only thing I've wanted was stability.
Stow and go. Figure you me out. A power struggle to be the control. To be captivating. Impressive or interesting.
But there's no hiding.
Through sand and fire, we all feel so lonely, and my shield and shelter is but glass.
To betray myself is to be myself.

-A

coming home. (4/25/10)

this world is so amazing.
I discovered this week how small I can feel and how great I can feel in the opposite regard. I learned that everyone will let you down. Whether you know them or not, whether they promised or not, whether they've acted like family or not. Perhaps this is the biggest wake up call I've had in a while.
it's hard to see these things from 30,000 leagues over the sea. It's hard to see deception and cheating, thievery, abuse. From up there all I can find is energy and existence. Patches of light clusters scattered through the land.
it rained on the way out of the airport. We were delayed for two hours. It was awful except for the tiny natural beauties I found lurking within the storm. The runway was lined by blue, green, yellow and orange lights that reflected without focus on the rain pattering on my window. I experienced horizontal rain, and looking out across a sea of clouds which was giving me a lightning show of godly proportions. The things causing my lateness were the most beautiful.

I should learn to slow down. Ignore the delay and enjoy the shower. Even if my seat partner from Greece likes to whine the whole time. But what does that accomplish? Nothing. Moments spent on annoyance when happiness is far more obtainable.

-A

stability.

switch off,
please,
give a break from
reality,
insanity surrounding
anxiety,
created inside the mind,
determining
dreams versus reality but
failing,
sleep and thought have
singularity
just a response, an answer
desiring,
simply looking for mental
stability.