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Oh Tiny Angels That Bleed and This Journey Called Life, My New Years Resolutions

This journey

life its called
this karma free for all

back and forth a saviors hell

attempts to speak to tiny angels.

In the lore

place mats on my table

protect the meal from wear.

Understood circumferences

worn

back and forth

never ends.

Perhaps that's the plan after all?

I write my journey

keep track of all those notes.

Plans for the future

watch ocean tides

chances for revival

blossoms on a tree.

I see tomorrow and me.

I spread my wings
fairy dust does coat each stroke

miracles tied

ever so cleverly

with a shipping vessels ropes.

Pelted with regret at times

undefined

yet

meeting too much definition.

Keep it still

float that boat

lift up my sail

bitter past

bitter note.

Lift up that sail

now, tomorrow and me.

Tiny angels that bleed

Angels never used to fall.

One fairy stood her ground

she stayed for me.

Gathered ideas

posted their lessons

weighed claims.

Rolled up useless

stored it anyway.

Each trial she met

an architects drawing

have to understand perspective

or buildings will fail.

I feel the edges

I scream that dream

so I can hear it.

Decode its secrets.

Five bottles left

they contain my rhythm

define the borders

at all cost.

Past rules and decisions

I define my fate.

If I don't watch myself

I will walk all over

stomp in the ground

that designated pathway

without a humble sound.

Hope in the seeing

sameness as an enemy

dig out those worn down pathways

dusty plans

redesign their voices

hear them clear

and every single day

reject their fading dots.

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