Carefree to let the mind soar,

Heartache for the ones that are without.

Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, the giant shouts,

For his story is no more.

Not everyone is meant to be Thor,

Some are the tile and some are the grout.

Fe, Fi, Fo, Fum, the giant shouts,

As the main character pulls out his sword.

I feel touched by the sun

And blessed by the moon

Yet I dust and shine

The four corners of this room

Heaven and hell envy this gift

How little effort

Can achieve this bliss

So, with a smile

I dismiss, what’s been sent

I’m comfortable here

In my bed, my element

Curtains up, let the sun and moon

Shine in this room

Still can’t shake

This unyielding sense of doom

The two’s-day doom, Locked in a room

A two-step groove, we dance to

Repetitious records playing your life’s tunes

Of Fruitless fruit And Blessings unused

A smile and a sun, rays on your face

A Sociopath’s mind or dreaming during the day

Abused and amused, crazed and dazed

Annual aberrations, the definition of insane

Luckily lucky, touched by the sun

Shape shifting, and blessed by the moon

Violently vigorous, for momentary fun

Patiently pessimistic, for this unyielding sense of doom

The lights fade so soon

So fast

Random chords don’t make a melody

And time doesn’t create chemistry

Things I know, but I still want to be

Me

Scatter brain at the soul

Crazy in all the right places,

An artist from head to toe

A boy with many faces,

Free as bird

But still follow the rules of nature

Cater my words to whom

These stories will only get crazier

I try to learn my craft

But the lights fades so soon

So fast

Organized words don’t feel right

My pen free and abstract

Stephen king won’t agree with my plight

But, for now, it maintains my life intact

Strange,

a story framed to depict a dying light

But portrays whats said five lines back

I can’t write unless my pen is free and abstract

But the lights fade so soon

So fast

To be the cream of the crop

Is driven by madness

To be the pick of the litter

Is driven by loveliness

I want to be neither

Driven by loneliness

To be the best of the best

Driven by absoluteness

Who takes a trip alone

To a place far

And the seat to the left.

Dreaming of a life

Not better or worse

Just different.

Because I’ve traveled to many planets

And in the seat to the left

I’ve found nada.

Do they run away when I get close,

Or is there, truly, no one there,

In the seat to left.

I glide my index finger across my teeth

searching for new imperfections

there is none,

and haven’t been any of the previous times I’ve done so

and yet this habit persists.

Out of all my habits, this may be the worse

It does not solve any need or provide pleasure

It does no harm or presents future consequences for doing so.

So where does my trepidation come from

something looms over this activity.

Foreshadowing an equally unbiased crossroad as the action,

options of self-awakening and the molding of an artist

or a copycat, cookie-cutter wannabe

gliding my finger across my teeth and I think,

That feels, Different.

"Are you ok, is there a reason you’re home so late?"

A father asks his daughter in a caring yet disciplinary voice only a father can achieve

"You wanna know the truth?"

She speaks in a gaze, fixated on nothing. Her eyes are open, but she looks at nothing. Not a tear in her eyes but her sight is blurry. She only sees the story in her head.

"I was watching a caterpillar the whole time.”

“I watched as it inspected each leaf to make sure it was ok to eat. And eventually, when the caterpillar found a leaf that passed the test it would go to the tip and start eating. The caterpillar worked its way down the leaf and before you know it, the caterpillar was on to the next leaf. For some reason, it never ate a whole leaf. It would just eat the edges and some of the middle,

but mostly the edges.

I was amazed that this caterpillar was eating so much I couldn't take my eyes off it."

Still in a gaze, she says

"Then I killed it"

Her dad’s face twitched, his eyebrows flexed, raised, and relaxed, blinking several times

"What? Why would you do that?"

"Because no one ever thinks of the tree" she replies breaking out of her gaze to look at him

He grabs her hand

"Are you ok?"

"Yeah,

just tired"

I feel moved, by sound, to stillness. Paralyzed by the muse—stuck in a dream, a blissful dream. Do I want to escape, or do I want to stay? A decision to be made at the center of the maze.

But as I walk, I think about how my scale is balanced to suit my life. Although I’m a righty, the left feels comfortable too, and although a stroll is nice, running is equally majestic in this dream world I have created for myself. Do I want to leave, or do I want to stay? A decision to be made at the center of the maze.

For now, I ponder the intricacies of my life. The top of a mountain provides amazing views, but the desert is still very scenic in this mirage I find myself lost in. Where do I want to go? where do I want to be? A decision to be made at the center of the maze.

For now, we sit here and wait, buying more time for the winds to sway us in the right direction. Cause life choices are hard to contemplate. An option to bake, is this seat right here, to be forever lost—the journey to the center of the maze.