The Approximation Equation

maybe caring too much

about what? happened when?

affects/effects

how (?)

i care about

now

maybe sharing too much

maybe baring too much

maybe daring too much

(i tried to rhyme but how)

and the last three lines above

each

requiring a question mark

yet devoid

of any punctuation

because

you know what i mean

i dunno

i just write

i stretch my skin aside

i step into another night

and reach into what i hide

moments of time sliced with gold or blight

it is indeed a thrilling ride

like a fucked up second sight

a capturing of moments pure

and of those beneath deceit

loose ends that bring the room together

tenderised like beating the meat

a wielding both falsehood and truth

a reckless scorn for comfort zones

i give what i’ve lived and i bear the scars the proof

the tales i weave

these stories i leave

these moments for which

i laugh and i grieve

a hint of the future

a slice from the past

enduring ensuring

each more cathartic than the last

i lighten my load,

my burdens

my lot

with cryptic allusions

i take, you the reader

into my delusions

i share as i bare

these arranged illusions

a sympathetic ear yes

but no real solutions

yet every single letter

i get down

is me

coming to you

live

this is the only thing

i seem to have

ever done well

i have hoarded

every faded scribbling

piece of me

from the past

the cheap paper that i used

is not standing the tests of time

i think i’ve got most of it down

but self doubt is a dear friend of mine

this is me

telling my part

of this story

or this part

is telling me mine

this is a nick

a mere fraction in time

this could be a tick

when a simple nod would do fine

this is the schtick

the real and sublime

aint this the shit

said the king of nothing

this is me

and this

this is what it is

psuedosemantics at play

this is me

and this

part of my vent

is a but part of the shadow

that i

choose

to reveal

to the light

.

“ba-doing”