Hey, Daisy.

You grew up through the sidewalk
Cracks
The world was busy without you
But you have a silent will
The tree that has
Gnarled roots
Embedding yourself riverside
Splitting the force of the collective
Sure that we had washed
You away
We hope, and doubt for you
All you do is stand
But do you know how firmly

Together, we are two.

Currently, the seat across from me is vacant. Occupied merely with the gaze of mine own eyes, and the thirst of my own heart. It is conceivable that the seat needs a rest. Perhaps I overwhelmed it with too many, too early. The cushion may still have some residual imprints from some previous ass that sat down hard and got up fast. One thing’s for sure, the draft has become more direct, clear and steady. There isn’t a soul to block my access to the flow of air. I see, now quite plainly, through the window that previously was denied to me. It’s funny how little of the outside world is visible when the seat in front of you is taken. I gag at the thought of sunrises and sunsets that have exploded all around my obliviousness, the everyday being thwarted by the present. Still, there are times that I allow myself to slip the lids of my eyes together, to drown myself in every sour memory that now leaves me this way, alone. So many have sat and dealt their hand to me, as if I, or we, were shopping, purchasing each other. Some have taken their seat and required something of me, most often some sort of verification of personal value. There has never been a time, however, where I was able to fulfill anyone, even though I may go on trying for the rest of my life to do so. There have been others that sit down and want nothing. There was not a thing that I could give to them, and not a thing that I could reap. Reminds me of a disappointing audition, no one tells you what you did wrong, or what to work on. They just tell you to go. “You must always leave an audition with a gracious smile, saying ‘Thank you, for the opportunity!” The trouble with me is that I haven’t ever found a show that I wanted to be the leading lady of. There is way too much responsibility and weight to carry. I would much rather be cast as the supporting guy with five scenes and all the witty one liners. The audience doesn’t expect much out of the actor, and the actor doesn’t anticipate much from the audience. I guess that is it, expectation. There has yet to be a person to sit across from me and not hold me to some previous conceived notion. All I have had to offer is me, it would be impossible for me to deliver the hopes that have been perfected in another’s mind. It is probable that I may just need to slide over, leave some space next to me. That way, I can’t block your view, and you can’t get in the way of mine. We can take in the world as individuals, because that’s what we were made to be.

Follow me towards the moon.

Here I lie in the line of things
In synch with the population of beings
Restless within the flow of creation
A world of all of us
Waiting
Anticipating the salvation of our bodies
What of the direness of our souls
My heart beats for my skin
And my skin aches for a heart
Giving up on fates and destinies
Simultaneously bending to the will of the world
At the brink of deconstruction
Grab my hand

Too close for discomfort.

I can feel your heart beat racin
Runnin up the line of my mind
My thoughts keep pacin
I can't see your eyes
Your face is hazin
Is this feelin real?
The bed is movin
Disinfect the soul
We keep spinnin
Everybody whispers
But I keep feelin
Maybe they're all right
I'm wrong, I'm sinnin
This may not be love
But at least it's livin