And so I know,

I’m a little more prepared

Each day I write,

I find a right,

And watch as someone cared.

It’s the day,

Where I became,

Another anxious name,

To meet a friend,

Or raise a cat,

And something else at that.

He’s a good guy, and I can be too,

I’m only writing for me and you.

Overthink and wink I guessed,

Maybe

Life

Is best.

In Poem and Rhyme,

I asked the lord,

For his or her perfect time,

To do what I must always do,

To find the door, to go back and through.

With other pages a day behind,

I lined the cages and perfect signed,

A silent prayer, maybe one or two,

And Sally came, and Ben got through,

Sandy paper, whispered breath,

I admit, I love you too less.

Find me here, or find my writing,

Find the noise, that keeps you coming,

With all that said, the day is through,

For another day, with one or two –

This is usually where I pray,

That today, is yesterday. Maybe,

And so tomorrow, when I go home, the billion voices, of soup and stone,

To eat is good, to pee is great,

I have taken the time, to write this letter.

And as though the apostles, as they did too – try to warn you, to pull through. The pillow is good, that I know, but when I’m the last, the day is woe; and all the friends, that I did write, when are you here but not tonight. The self of cluster, the mind astray, who did I miss saving today. This guy inside, who thinks and believes, that one day he’ll wait, until Christmas eve. And hopefully diamond, or sapphire even, will manifest happy, or something even ‘

And though I thought t’was a memory, of a cringe of sound,

I cry myself sleeping, when I am unfrowned. And autocorrect, is it a real curse,

It can be when you feel like you are the universe.

So sorry will never cut it I guess for pen to paper each day seems that test. And maybe my work, mine and yours,

Will read and see good, or maybe reverse,

There’s a song each day, inside of my mind,

All because I, took some time to unwind.

The clock marches forward, and life it ticks down – but the youth and their fathers, should repaint the town. Today you will see, anxiety too – I lied the whole time, with honesty soon,

So maybe I can’t, take down the note,

But angels rehearsed it, and you made it perfect.

A picture or two, a split-second hair,

Everyday I accidentally give up, when I couldn’t care. Do you do it too, do you read the signs? I can’t even ask you to redesign the mind.

But frankly I know, with a dendritic organic,

There’s a lot to be said, when I go into panic. I’m waiting here for, the door to unspeak,

That we was a person, who might’ve felt weak –

And then I latched on, to one word as it was sewn, the capitulate hero, incoming dawn.

Unwind wind wind the weird. Praying has faulty atmospheric calm. And so you are reading, what I had rehearsed, while I forgot you were here somewhere, in my universe.

Poems and songs the favorite romance,

Contact the person, but give them the chance.

Two years later, I was 38. And at fourteen to twelve, I was already late.

Where or when , up or down – I am not sure, how there’s a town ‘ where I live each day in breath and in signal. Between her and him, I sometimes feel single. But each weather comes, and today it’s a cloud,

If I were broken, I would be allowed. They’re upstairs and inside, she’s down and she hides, the thoughts come so fast, even when they hide. Creative at best, when I try 10 meters, Following that, I hear the heart beaters. Thank God for us and all that you do,

For without the mindset, I wouldn’t pull through. But if you read in, and between the lines – you’ll see a real boy, who still thinks he’s fine. So maybe the last, is the first one as well, it’s after that time, when he went through well. But sadly the memory of a cursed day or two, maybe one was enough, enough to save you. If I was a dollar, I’d be more… Because life yesterday, was truly a bore. And in meaning I find, emptiness too, because all you might say, was I love you too.

And maybe the paper, the screen and the sand,

Are the lullaby of angels, alive in demand. If it’s business I guess you just gotta do it,

Relax for 10 minutes, we all gotta do it. If that was the truth, you’d read up a few lines, and see love is a mercy, of forward inside. So pain breaks the ice, and fire walks on water, and call him by name – and he woulda had a daughter. If I’m embarrassing you, for that I forgive, forgive, forget anything, if you want to live. Not angry are you? Just eerily broken, it’s each word that’s said, heard and unspoken. Even if nine is better than 5 I take one call, and I doubted alive,… survive. My mom would be jaded, my dad would be glad, that today I’m here and not awkwardly sad.

Ignore the picture, and returned the sound and then I remembered

3 for 8 that’s all I knew. I am trying to correct, nothing I knew- you made me doubt, and each day you would fix it, until the day I thought this, might actually fix it so here under cover, in dark falling might, I don’t know the time, until I find it’s all

God has helped, Satan provided. Even when I’m not thinking of anything at all, I find I think of the little bits that dwell in the darkness of a time I repented, even though I was healthy, she twisted and bent it each thought is my weave, one thing to the next… I can’t unassociate my thoughts all that is here is just his and not mine, I’m patiently waiting, each day for the dream I had had was too dark to unsee, there’s she at the end, no cigarette even, what the hearthstone might say, is that we’ve been reweavin’. I saw the day you asked me for one thing I wanted, you were my voice, I can pray till I’m blue, and that I was, until I didn’t do. Help. I truly need it. I don’t know what it is, but the feet get a’goin’, I’ve been looking for God, without even knowin’.

I wish you would see your potential, and see your worth, and realize that you are enough. It doesn’t matter about gay, straight, bi whatever. It just matters that we are human. I’ve seen God be very good to people, and to me, and it warms my heart to enable others to succeed. That’s what my hustle is about. Making things possible. God provides the tools, and we do the work. That’s my belief in life.

If there’s anywhere out there for you to find me, find me here. Let me help me help you. That’s the truth. It gets old, but just remember, that when life hands you shit, you still were always the fastest sperm for the lot. That’s the game, and the truth too.

This planet is full of people who won the most important race on the earth. Act like you believe it.

And that’s what she said, too, I believe. clear. Also Miqoté.

I wrote him a new resumé,

He got an interview,

He knows what it’s like,

To just make it through.

Laughing aloud,

I know, what’s in a name,

For one person or two,

I’d do it again.

And so when I ask,

The riddle of the night,

I wonder if you,

Are truly alright.

My tempo is good,

But it’s 7:11,

And that’s a new luck,

I obsess over schmuck.

But hey it’s something to do,

Write it all down,

Today was a good one,

I barely frowned.

Thanks to the graces,

Of what I did back to me,

I realized today,

That I am truly me.

Computer you hear it?

Sound is it on?

I know a nice guy,

Who’s middle name is John.

When all does fade,

I find it alright,

To realize tomorrow,

Might not be tonight.

And faith isn’t perfect,

There’s lots of real woe,

Thank God for English,

And women who sew.

Is this story good?

Because I feel inspired,

Even though deep down,

I’m making everyone tired.

And for the one person,

Who picks up a call,

This is the start,

Of I have most of it all.

And honestly that’s fine,

Because she is okay,

And sadly I cried,

Some other way.

I ask this green thumb,

Who makes the letter dance,

To give me a chance,

And other romance.

One thing is certain,

That I forget to,

Do what I’m told,

Until I make it through.

But not everytime,

That u do know,

And that is my story,

Of after the glow.

When one minute’s perfect,

So is the next,

Until I read the book,

Of the thousand year hex.

Y mercy us given,

A blue lullaby.

I’m imagining a small little creature,

Playing in the house,

And scurrying about, learning like a mouse,

Fast, but kind, black and white,

A perfect example of all that is right.

I train him, I feed him, I gave him his name,

And today if you’re reading, or thinking the same: I’m not a perfect specimen, of all that I know, but when I’m at home with my cat, I will be, I know.

So maybe today, at 10 past or 20. I’ll give life a chance, to see that it’s funny. And when I relax, here or outside, here or at work, or here if I hide – I’ll promise myself, that no matter what I do – when the world comes alive, I’ll be here too.

Thank you for help, for everything given,

Thank you for mercy, and being forgiven.

My time isn’t perfect, sometimes I am behind,

But one day at a time, and we will be fine.

Confessing or asking, wondering today,

If I knew how hard, it was to get to today.

I had more than 6 places to go,

I saw a little fluff, a little row,

I saw time, in the window,

I saw the light, the dark and the sky,

Change into a rose colored fly,

I saw my life go forward and back,

Inwards and outwards,

Like a Neverending panic,

And then I sat,

Without a care,

Alone in the dark,

Avoiding the air,

And now it’s just when,

I wonder why too,

Today I didn’t do it to you.

and I’m not hurt

I’m suffering

from a case

of lose the attitude

please

Matthew

there’s one thing you need

and that’s – love.

How do we show love? Kindness, integrity, and grace. And those are my old 3 virtues. Somewhere along the line I lost them. Through all the people that I met. All the things I asked for in distress. And now, eagerly patient – I wait, honestly, for the sign that I never saw but knew. Jesus. Where was I 30 minutes ago. Where were you when I needed you. When was the time I could remember to control myself? About 30 minutes ago. And then it continues. I’m here, I’m alive. I deserve to live. I do. I’m writing this now because I believed it, I did. I know I do. I just needed that one blip, that one silence, to be different. The cigarette. What a powerful thing. It ran my life. It runs us all, I believe. Whether you’re on the one side or another. I was on a bit of both. Now I just want to see. See the truth, see the fun, the love, the mercy. And greatly, it’s so dark. It’s a dark book, it’s a black book, a red book, a white one or a green one. There are so many books. And I feel like I have them all – this darkened room of light and grace. How can I return them. It’s always something to give up. When I buy the cigarette, I feel like I owe something. And that’s the connection. I’m pleading for help I don’t need. Maybe – maybe you’re reading this. Maybe you saw the unsent messages, the blocked calls, the spam, the missed connections. Somewhere I want to believe this all happens for a reason. That where I am right now is where I’m supposed to be. I’m praying. I’m praying to see fruition. The only thing I don’t have is the one thing I need. Somewhere to share my host, somewhere to share my openness, somewhere to share something I missed.

Jesus responds, dude. He always does. The pastor once said – even if he’s not with you, he’s with you. Whoever you are, if you’re reading this, just remember the one thing I heard from a long time ago that I heard. And then I went too far. Then I went overboard, overdrive, override. There’s no tomorrow. There’s no today. There’s only history in my bloody timeless hourglass. How can I give it up when I couldn’t even find it. I need someone new. Some sort of hope. Some sort of soap from the woven tongue of the secret I never kept. The silence. What do you do in silence? Continue on.

When it’s silent, I pray. When it’s silent, I play. When it’s silent, I guess. When it’s silence I guess. I wait for a cue, I listen a moment or two, I see what I have, and usually behave. One time I didn’t, and that paid me back. I gave my own dad, a freaking heart attack.

God for the love of all things holy.

When I need to remember the lessons, the timing, the rhyming and clues,

Someone remember that I did love you too.

Replay the end of my world – and the dismay of a purple diamond grey.

Because when it was eerily quiet

I listened to that voice

And it said

You should smoke

And when I did

I realized

It’s all over, I might as well.

And that’s when I realized, days later, after everything I’ve gone through,

That I was the Gracie one.

That took me a long way back.

The hell and high-water I’ve been through. The drugs, the stress, the anxiety and meds. There’s not much anyone can do. I wish I can say on Halloween night that something helped. Maybe things did. But they’re not the solution. There is no end, no beginning. Time never stops, and people can’t control anything sometimes. I’ve said so many things I regret. Like Jesus even me, has no control over the things that are said, or I say, or what I do sometimes. And I don’t know why. I don’t know the reasons. I needed to find a few pieces of paper, a few things I was supposed to write, say or do. I was supposed to be like my dad my uncles my brothers my lord. And honestly it’s 1:00am, November 1st, and I have no idea how to respond to myself. I wanted it to go on forever the feeling, the weirdness, the connection with God. But now I realize, sometimes there is a little evil, there are demons, and I realize that without something to cope, there’s no life. I’m tired of saying sorry; I’m tired of screaming inside my head, I’m tired of feeling tired. And tonight I’m not. I don’t know who I’m selling this soul too. I’m basically just a passenger on the naked highway of a path my choices made for me my whole life. I really don’t want the sun to explode. If it did, it’d be an easy way to go. Would happen in an instant. It’d probably be the best way. I can’t steal any more time. Why? Time was never mine in the first place. Honestly, I’ve missed. I’ve missed big time

Memory is shot. Memory is shot. And God do I feel like a shot in the head right now. Nobody is calling. And when I’ve called, I’ve panicked. And the twists. My brain must be built by a guy with a maze in mind. Neverending winding tunnels of wind and always searching for cheese that I can’t seem to find. Just followed the voice to reason, and when I got there, I realized that for God’s sake, I’ve been chasing my own. Please someone, read it all. Read it all tomorrow. Read something I stole so many times. Read the time. Recoil. I’ve not got any ammo. Who am I, and what do I want from me? I’m truly alone here, truly alone. That’s even worse than silence. Then the silence sang. It sounded cold, sharp, and round. I realize I can’t stop. Until something does. And it doesn’t stop until after I do. That’s where life goes.

Workaholics any

Workaholics anonymous

How han I chep you

How can I ask

more mercy again

the sin is the same

I need a friend

I forgot the business day

and faught through the pain

only to realize – I live again

Christmas is coming,

eagerly slow,

sometimes I want to fly

Out the window,

Where is my shelter,

where is my name,

WHere is my choice,

Given her game,

how can I do, all that is right,

when the only people I see, aren’t tonight

When they stomp, I shieked

When they prayed, I listened

When they cooked, I cleaned,

When they slept, I worked

When I listened, they talked,

When they caused a commotion, I paniced

And when I settled, I ran

Is there a way to end the hell? Is there a way to see forgiveness through? One time and one moment, each day, I see the light sometimes. don’t steal it. don’t take it away. I am losing faith in my ability to hold on to the thought, to the whisper, and the chime, and I’m losing a little grace each day. I know why, but I can’t seem to stop it, and this writing is verbal and clear, my namesake and ally, my friend and my foe, my alter ego.

Should the day come, when I see the light,

The second remorse, of today’s followed fright,

I pray that we find, a cure for the pain,

The devil inside, is always the same,

And so I relight, a candle or two,

And sorry don’t gut it,

You gotta get through.

One morning I wake, a dazed and aloof,

And once I looked back, I saw it bluetooth.

Why can’t we go back,

Through sorrow and fame,

When twine was my mercy,

I lost a game.

So maybe today,

at 4 after 10,

I’ll leave the door open,

And remind myself again –

That after the calm,

Calms a very big storm,

And merci will have it,

I have all the norm.

And that’s what I fear, more than anyone else.

A second or third, or fifth little dance.

Where is the time, slipping today,

Where is the fame, of a guy who did pray,

Where is the sound, of silence and morse,

Where is the human, inside me of course.

So when I get through, this life or the past,

I realize I sometimes, go way too damn fast.