Throw misdirection

tickle my ear with promise,
but say what you will.
weak will bends lobes
hard of hearing.
sounds ring strong of
pitches over thrown.
hearing a present predicted
but remembered at present.
looking back for that
which travels from ahead.
well, it comes from more
than one head, but
perspective is personal.
i’ll put my hands up
but don’t hold me to it.

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Note the breadth

thud, thud, thud
the note pound my senses.
it reads, thinking felt.
the spaces between
reach towards one another
only to have their grasp
thwarted upon reflection.
pronounced initials
of first impressions,
whose brevity transfigures
misinterpretation,
decays under analysis.
living contrition assumed
when death is.

Thinking of doing

do or think
what comes first?
i thought of doing something
but i can’t control my heart
or my lungs
so what is driving?
control is a misplaced reaction
to an essential chaos
i’m glad for my bodily functions
for whose thoughts subsist
life continues without thought
for those who think
detach from the whole
unity persists beyond a singularity
that tries to be more

Dying as i have lived

do you know what you’re doing? i wish i could say yes, but no, no i do not. wait, what am i talking about? of course i know what i’m doing: i’m living. surely we all have a different opinion on what qualifies as living, but for me, as long as you’re breathing, you’re living. i know many would argue against this fact, but technically, to me at least, it seems like a self evident truth. now, what you do while you’re breathing, that’s a whole other story. maybe that’s what people mean by the statement, “get a life.” if it was like Mario world, heck, i would collect the hell out of those green 1 up mushrooms, but since this is not video game land, i’ll just live within myself. it’s hard to understand others when one cannot understand oneself. i seem to like things and not like things and so do other, yet i can’t find someone of which makes me feel wholly similar or comfortable. i might divulge personality to another, but that is in hopes to find reciprocation. alas, i’m left alone and wanting. for what, i cannot comprehend, nor does another. alone i was born, and alone i shall die. half knowing myself and those of whom i consorted with.