“I know You Now”

Sitting at the waters edge sifting through the ripples of my own reflection, I stare into me, a mirror of memories, travel through the optics of my fibrous being; traverse my place off in the sun; I’m grounded by a distinct familiarity, thine own self.

Experience effortlessly channeled from my human creation of wisdom, through the gateways of my higher self.

Remembering a thought imprinted on the bottoms of my feet, carry whispers from the memories of defeat, tattooed on my soul; it’s permanence is perilous. Triggers are the derelicts of your self restraint; habits form, confronting the norm, as you’ve been a refugee of your own mind before.

Behold your saving grace, through the riot you calm the storm. Trickery plays you so confidently like a fiddle, one made of gold; how oddly the paradox beckons and consumes every decision of one’s walk-through time.

Spirit is highly positioned to guide your flesh. Enacting intuition. If your head and heart can hear and listen; Forces another source of inquisition, minding the voices in your head, or it’s apparition.

To boldly challenge your inherent disposition, a place of darkness turmoil and despair. So violently opposed, yet you put yourself there, In search of the sound, carelessly and repetitiously that beat you into the ground; transcribed your DNA ; left alone, you couldn’t share in the progress of life, stunted by your own growth; only in the mind of inexperience, had time yet caught up to the place of my own acquisition.

Defending defenseless guilty innocence, is a time to unremember, for in the face of such sadness you still cannot come undone. Awareness becomes you, and the challenge of your own existence finds progress and is met with its yang of noble resistance.

Inequities are sure to repeat, through the staging of selfish indecision, entitled by bereavement; still, chasing you down is the machine in your mind, that somehow gained control of your thoughts and pirated the ship off course of your own direction; confusing and distraught, these words assemble only a fraction of profound perception, but my tone is unabashed, revealing unbiased influence captured in my inflection. The source Is like a natural spring derived from the watershed of my ravine of resilience, gathering the moss from the stones of life and drawing from the reservoir of my own resolve.

Under hellfire we chase who we are, like Hantzel and Gretel. In our quiet shame, self sabotage, and guilt, we are Nearly shredding our own existence as taking the part in killing the beauty that once lived inside of you, or the way we thought it did. Learning to love yourself. Unbinding the knots that anchor down my wounds; removing the tape from the mouth of these ruins, shouting out, “ you killed me,” running from yourself, you wouldn’t ever find the evidence of perversion, your demon of desire; castrated and used by dirty pleasures, handed down by the worlds devious disguises; therein, the reality that holds my innocence.

Abandoning angels is what the devil comprises. I found out about the secrets I hide. If telling myself of the escape that I’ve planned, turns into a bird, is it worth the one in my hand?

My calling takes me through The meadows of my soul, where I’m holding the strings by my own relentless hands. I bring me, undressing with a heavy sigh, cause for salvation; live or die; trying to exist not knowing why; beholding my prayers.

Even under my shadow, taller is the choice that Sings; echoes Carry through my canyon of doubt, and my voice carries me home. Somehow this whole thing was a mystery of ones life, I already figured that part out.