Aren’t you there,

Hidden your mind,

Captured and solaced,

Each day this time,

Happens when sadness,

Overtakes each night,

And when the day lightens,

Don’t let it give you that fright.

I’m stuck in this warping,

My twisting and churning,

Yet Tuesdays a Monday,

Each day that I’m learning,

My follow be light,

My heavy be fright,

My midnight a morning,

Each day and each night.

And though it gets centred,

Sometimes it doesn’t,

Sometimes I gave in,

(Sometimes truly I cave in),

Sometimes I see,

We can all be singers,

A talking I know,

And rhyming still lingers.

Is that prayer or a scream,

A dream waiting to happen,

Or something I’m buying,

Just to not let it happen?

And when I am through,

Writing in both directions,

You’ll remember my gift,

Was a name till it happens.

And this is the extra,

The prayer for you too,

To see that it’s possible,

Still to pull through.

And I’m asking for hope,

A drink and a line,

To save me one moment,

For that perfect rhyme.

And twenty minutes passed,

And I shared some laughter,

The cues went all black,

But there was hereafter,

And then I rewoke,

In this split minded place,

Realizing that,

It wasn’t a race.

And she knows it best,

I would never go back,

I’d been there more times,

Than I can remember to pack,

And don’t we all know,

It’s more than uneven,

To say I am a god-fearing man,

That gets sick of weavin’,

But today I’ve now seen,

That I am not cursed,

Just a little broken in spirit,

But I remember that verse,

Where god says to pray,

And meditate too,

On anything holy,

And that the spirits will lift,

Because of their voice,

The gift we had taken,

Was to have a choice.

And though I made more mistakes,

And wrote much of it down,

The world is spoken,

And we are all here.

Below is a mystery,

Written for us,

And though I try to deny it,

I know God is that just,

To see we’re all human,

And that we succeed,

Until we try to do that,

One thing we need.

We can’t figure it out,

We all know that we’ve tried,

But there’s nothing worth keeping,

It’s all deep inside.

And share if you will,

My story and song,

This battle was won,

Before we proved it,

In delusions and tricks,

In curses and verses.

There’s more to this life,

Than bitches and sticks.

I give you my blessing,

And offer you this,

Time wasn’t a weapon,

Just a mysterious gift.

And when I come out,

Of the place I reside,

I’ll know every good place,

To run and to hide.

Because as I’ve just said,

There’s forward and back,

Not much that we need,

And rarely we lack,

We open our door,

We may pass your good conscious,

But freaking only happens,

When you are still nauseous,

And then it was me,

Here sitting alone,

To see how much I matured,

And how much I’ve grown.

Turn the mirror around,

And rip off the silver,

If you want to survive,

You have to deliver.

The grace is that pattern,

Of eternally forward,

Until the day we rewind it,

If you can afford it.

So there’s one of the last,

Things that I’ll ponder,

Because glass is just thick sand,

And time can still wander.

Now as I write,

Here is this room,

Know Matthew’s the name,

And

I’m a Vlasblom.

God & cigarettes both.

Maybe because,

I wove them together,

And they are two

Very, if not the most,

Powerful forces on earth.

Maybe freedom comes,

When you finally mature,

And you decide to give them both

Up.

There’s so many motifs here, and I can see them hidden, but surely as I write today, I have truly given. All my good grace, my humility and praise, to the one I loved from the start, and that’s why I’m gay.

Matt

This two day jump, one day back, one day forward, then a hack. And then restart, and then unlivid, and then the future, then the divide.

And so I say, either way.

I added earth,

To my prayers, that day.

Your commands are an annoyance,

Your whispers a chore,

Your screams are unheard of,

And I want no/more

And I’m sick from your thumps,

Your scraping and questions,

And answers to things,

You’ve crafted as weapons,

And though I may live,

An imperfect life,

At least I don’t resort,

To causing this strife.

And should I live longer,

Each way as I pass,

If you don’t repent,

You can kiss my ass.

Got it? I’m tired, you wouldn’t believe,

That I can be human,

Despite Christmas Eve.

He is a weapon

A vessel, a vehicle,

A poison, a noise,

A succulent poise,

And though I lament,

The death of it all,

I know I’ll have done it,

Or nothing at all

When all is fine,

Yet you know that it’s not.

The timebomb lurks,

In my mailbox of fear,

And though I’ve no recourse,

I avoid like it’s mere,

And surely who reads,

A mature little voice,

To say I’ve got years,

Of utter remorse.

It feels like when,

I say it over too,

To a person in time,

For twenty and a few,

It happens again,

They steal it and sell it,

Like a pure white weapon.

And I could wash and retry,

Or purely give up,

I’m getting nearer to where,

I stopped giving a fuck.

And though it’s all true,

What I’ve written here,

It’s taken a miracle,

Just to come clear.

And so whoever it is,

I hear screaming each day,

I relax you to apologize,

I did it my way.

And thoughts so invisible,

Like they draw a fine line,

Between I’m almost homeless,

After three dimes.

And solely I assure you,

I’m trying real hard,

I’ve worked pushed and faught it,

And can’t catch that break,

But maybe I will,

If we calm the lake,

The busses and cars, the trains and the planes,

The silence gets maddening,

And I know your name.

Today is the 4th, of the 11th, well when,

I succumbed over,

A dollar or then,

Wow that’s the past,

When time meets that force,

The pills that I take,

And the ensuing new wave,

The walk of a lifetime,

Just a month or two late,

And if it could be,

I’d write this once more,

I’d say that love is a virtue,

Of always needing more.

No doubt inside,

I’m truly so hiding,

A curse of the ages,

That seeds it’s residing.

And only today,

I’ll stop it in 12.

I can’t find the time,

Since sound and light do not have a fine speed,

Everything I know,

But nothing in weed.

Clearly one is twenty too, so let’s just fight it, after you dictate a time to rewind the clock to a time where it wasn’t stopped.

may now download the centre of addictions and mental health

Thank you

I came to realize

I came to realize

I came to real eyes

Ike game to real eyes.

Like game to real eyes..

Lgtre

Light reply.

That’s the voice I heard.

I heard..

I hard..

Try hard.

Try harder, if you must.

And I may.

I might..

Get the things I wish tonight..

Wish you may,

Wish you might,

Fight the things you must unite.

And so it said,

I could not undo,

A total effigy of I love you.

Now me.

Timings perfect interweave.

Of close or not at all.

Who’s you.

Maybe you need it,

But then you do not,

Maybe you sew it,

But maybe is not,

A choice that we have,

In uttered or screamed,

Leaves the retorts,

And apples and bees.

Try to do it again,

If I could just ground it,

In perfect white pen.

Why are you so downcast?

Creativity is but a tempest herald away,

May we see how you see us,

As bold and brave,

Colder to the shoulder was the serpents kiss,

Blind yet seen through a reflected tune,

Simmering below a heart so yearning and cool,

Because when time stopped sound,

It resounds so loud,

To be given anew again.

And surely the when,

Of a crumpet or horn,

Would interrupt those godly thoughts,

I would bounce back into fruition, and momentarily judge,

That I have a vicious sword,

Hilted at my side,

And a light on my tips, the fingers and so

I put it down because

There’s tomorrow

Since I’m a bartender

I invented a drink:

1 shot Tennessee whiskey

1/2 shot applejack

1 teaspoon honey

Dash of lemon juice

I write in a prayer that your legacy resides, as it does, in anyone who’s had grandmothers as strong, goodwilled, and faithful as mine.

I miss you- be at peace. For there rests a hope in the sun of man, the star of an age, and the future of our people.