Onward, upward, and ever forward . . .

Time cannot erase the promise I'm making to myself to rise above the everyday

Fate is just a word, and when life insists I must remember this.
Whenever it occurred, it was I who put upon a pedestal the precipice.
Creation is a curse. I burn something down to foundation to build another edifice.
Another lesson learned, another turn of phrase to find the artifice in all of this.

All I need is a moment here to breathe, and just be.
Everything will come together after this, I promise.

Patience is obscured by the nervous sting of the urgency of things.
Another vision blurred, from the shift in my eyes, to the one pulling my strings.
Before I find myself immersed in a sea of slings and arrows, throwing fists
I take a moment first, all the while I persist I must remember this.

All I need is a moment here to breathe, and just be.
Everything will come together after this, I promise.

Fate is four-letter word, and when life insists I must remember this.
A concept so absurd, it was I who placed upon a subtlety the emphasis.
Regret is something worse, the way things turn out confounds all your efforts to the opposite.
I take a moment first, take time to exist. I must remember this.

M@tthew Th0mas on SoundCloud

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Dig it … 

We were like when worlds collide, annihilated by the impact. I could see it coming for miles, but never a thought crossed my mind to react. And now we’re like when stars collapse. Explode into nothingness, fade to black. Like the circles in your eyes, and in them I see the event horizon.

Whether you weather me or not, still we storm. We are on a faster path. So what comes after that is nearly over. Within me, without you, will my soul wither in the aftermath of my bit of happiness? Clearly over … 

And like when the planets align, we were perfect in the disarray. But only for a time, and so it passed. Everything turns out that way. Everything moves along its path. Description is easy, just do the math. See what we are with clarity - a singularity … 

Whether you weather me or not, still we storm. We are on a faster path. So what comes after that is nearly over. Within me, without you, will my soul wither in the aftermath of my bit of happiness? Clearly over … 

From what we create, a constellation aggregates. Its outline traces the shape of my own private universe. Be it physics or fate, we begin to separate. The space between us expands, and the energy is dispersed.

You ever wish you could erase the past? Slow it down just to make it last. And in these relationships we all break our backs. It’s hard to let it go and just face the facts. We both keep pushing like the same old same shit, swallow pride even when it sucks to taste it. Face it - somehow we complicate this. Basically waste all this goodness and gracious. It used to be faceless. It’s got a name now. Now I understand. It’s all pain how easily it seems to me that the scenery changes. I can’t believe it but you know that I gave it a way. It’s a high price for the love and the hate. It’s my right to consider it waste. If I write my life, nobody gon’ be filling your place. It’s been forever and it’s still a disgrace.

We were like when stars are born. All that matters begins to coalesce. And heavier things are formed when all of the right elements acquiesce. So now we’re like when stars collapse. Explode into nothingness, fade to black. Like the circles in my eyes, and in them you’ll see the event horizon.

Whether you weather me or not, still we storm. We are on a faster path. So what comes after that is nearly over. Within me, without you, will my soul wither in the aftermath of my bit of happiness? Clearly over …

From the highest peaks to the valleys below. From my happiest to the depths of my soul. 
I let loose a stone and watched it fall down. No matter where it lands, but only where I am. 

Because … 

This one’s for the money. This one’s for love. This one’s for taking everything that I dreamed of. 
Whoa, oh ooh. Whoa, oh ooh … 


This one’s for the greed, another for affection. How can I live without natural selection?
Let us fade away, and make time for another day …

September setting … (continued)

September setting … 

You’re not far from what you wanted to become when you were young. Those years have gone by, but were never lost. It’s too late. We don’t know why some dreams fall through. Today, these are the scars that remind you

When all you see on your broken back is the perfect life that you never had.
It’s a better ground when we fall apart. We’ll come back again as a work of art.

So, lay your head to rest. Don’t worry if things never come around. ‘Cause they have, somehow, in everything you are. It’s too late. When we’ve already been torn in two. Today, these are the scars that remind you

When all you see on your broken back is the perfect life that you never had.
It’s a better ground when we fall apart. We’ll come back again as a work of art.

If you’ve ever missed your attempts to fly, remember this - well, at least you tried. 
Oh oh, you only did what you could. 
Maybe this is not your fault. Remember you still haven’t lost it all
Oh no, if what is left is your heart.

I think you should know you’re a work of art. I think you should know you’re a work of art. When the tide rolled in you did not lose your heart. I think you should know you’re a work of art …

A Victim of Convenience: This isn’t restitutionfor the nights I left you coldno plea for...

She is, for me, the greatest poet on Tumblr.

And this piece is further proof of that. 

victim-of-convenience
:

This isn’t restitution
for the nights I left you cold
no plea for absolution
I would never be so bold
as to practice inclination
while pretending at restraint
This world is full of martyrs, love
but I, I am no saint

This isn’t an apology
for nature, want or will
or the few we’ve burned in effigy
so we could drink our fill