Going in Circles

it's these little waves,
they crash a bit,
and then I'm caving in,
I'm taking these hits,
I'm wondering how
long this will last,
until I'm on the outskirts
looking back.

they pass so quickly,
like thoughts that flounder,
and i don't know if
I'm on the rebound or
if I'm so lost
i can never be found or
if when the sun goes down,
it scatters, leaves,
and my desperation
whispers ever so
silently in the trees.

sometimes i just wish,
for minutes to
last longer than this,
for things to be
so much different,
at times like these
yearning to be emotionless,
but I've gone farther,
gone to where the hope is,
to where possibilities live,
they say it's called
imagination
but I have named it
patience.

nights are silent,
and I'm
trying on new ideas,
new mental slide shows,
building up portfolios,
so when time escapes,
and I'm lost in the fray,
where the nights merge,
and the sunsets fade,
i can remember,
what i tasted
what gave me pleasure.

oh, that fucking moon
has me stalking her
has me watching her,
makes my thighs shudder,
cuz I'm waiting on another
full circle where he's
calling for the Mother,
and I'm throwing on sweaters,
rush swiftly through
this fog scattered weather,
breath depraved,
I'm running back to
what my demons crave.

curled in my bed,
where the guardians sleep,
i sing to the night owl
as the nightingale weeps;
impaled on her throne,
she's dying alone,
awake on the midnight,
where glitter whores roam.
We sing as she's lifted,
alive in the stars,
those pools of emotion,
those eyes of her heart,
she whispers a love song,
alone in the dark.

I've chiseled my path,
with the smoothest of stone,
encircle with sunlight,
I've named it My Home.
I'm most bare essentials,
my bags are packed light,
this trust is not promised,
I'm prepared to take flight.
notches on belts,
I'm slipping to past,
where the one who came first,
always finished last.

Yet now as I sit here
as this candle flickers,
and I'm weighing the cost,
distracted by pictures,
fighting for balance,
keep moving the weights,
keep gasping for air,
to keep up this pace,
somewhere there's sleep,
waiting for me,
there's dreaming
and dying, and
gold carpet riding,
but for now I follow,
I'm ripe for the chore,
when you meet me
at midnight to
settle this score.

purple afghans
soaked with sweat,
I'm going in circles,
alone in my bed.