Revlection

To read and to write are both acts of creation.

Our words have never been our own. They arise from the voice and verse of those signatures etched on our spirit. To claim rights is already going too far and not far enough. For it was never and always was yours.

We have always been eventually one voice. So how do you wish to become known?

I want you to strip. Only then can we get honest. If you don't wish to hear, then the burden of breaking is on you.

You may find yourself living in a flatland. You must invite truths delivered through discomfort into your heart if you wish to encounter the love waiting on the other side, and if you think you somehow know enough while you cover your ears...

It's not about sticks and stones.

You must ask, if you choose to. If you want to, you have to.

We are rupturing, and we hold on to our clothing for fear of what might spill out of us.

But if you choose not to author with your scrolling eyes, your life will be written for you. To choose vulnerability is no small matter. But to reside, invulnerability is cardinal.

You choose to evade death. Marinate too long and you may find yourself emptied. Flattened to spaghettified strips.

Get angry with me. Then pick up your eye ball pen and show me what it means to live and to love. Tell me how I'm wrong so that I might find my way back to you, because this chasm pains me. My heart is aching as I see the scream behind your pleasant smiling.

Choose to live. Choose to live. Choose to live.

Make your choices and trust each other — as often as you can.

Create a world of your own secret language for you and your friends. Apologize only when you cannot trust as your heart would like to pretend, desperately so — so desperately that you may not yet know that the pain and ache you feel in your gut is this peculiar kind of suffering:

 That I might trust if I could but cannot find a way to do so.

Make things up. Violate the truths you know so that you might find your more loving own. Invite me to your world, I long to see it through your eyes. They are holy divine and they unbreak me for to pieces.

What do you wish to never know?

Instead of        don't think of a pink elephant        listen for those already dancing in your delusions.

 "Delusions are inexhaustible,
   I vow to end

Take solace in that you do not merely hide your elephants away, but that you dance with them in creative judgment until they fade into your depths; transform into the myth and legend of your own spirit's being.

Breathe and become.

Make
Believe
                         Yourself.

Revel in your reflection.