“I, the Tree”

Leaving me,
Like the leaves falling off a tree.
I, the tall oak, morn each and every one,
Even the dried-up ones,
Which weighed upon my branches
With their sickly sorrows.

Will they grow back?
I worry every autumn,
Still being, after all these years,
Afraid the branches will stay bare.

Breathing change.
Growing pains.
Becoming a grander tree.
Leaving behind a reckless pile
Of what I thought made me complete.

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“Who I Want To Be With Now”

Who do I want to be with?
I ask myself as I look at the mysterious sunrise
Up in the sky as I swim.

Who do I want to be with?
I ask myself as I’m listening to soothing music playing,
And I’m falling into a dream.

Who do I want to be with now?
I ask as I see the lights of the city,
And I need to share the scene.

My head goes through scores of people,
Each with flaws beyond compare.
I feel no love beyond the daily,
No wish that’s in the proper extreme.

He hurt me,
She doesn’t love me,
This scenery he’d never understand.
I’m not one to spoil a pretty moment,
With the words and troubles of the wrong.

Who do I want to be with?
I answer:
Me, alone.
And with that stunning realization,
The world goes spinning on.

“Confessions, Part I”

My mouth does not yet taste of wrong,
But I can smell it from afar.
Our lips have yet to touch,
But I’ll hear your heart break before long.

My curiosity carries me like the sea,
Away to islands of unknown,
But it might push me into the ocean floor,
Alone and wounded as can be.

Fleeting moments, forbidden things,
Worse yet is, you want them too.
With my yet remaining conscience,
I’m ruining both of our sweet whims.

Changing friendships is the deadliest of things.
But who am to declare sins?
I wasn’t born to be an angel;
Let our odd story begin.

“So I Run”

I am a human being, but more-so a runner.
It’s all I’ve ever known.
This task is a bear, that friend is a wolf,
And they will surely attack, when I turn my back.

So I run before they see me,
It feels dangerous to stay.
The world is out to get me,
And its greatest weapon is my trust.

So I run before they have convinced me,
Before they make me think I’m safe,
But there are more animals throughout this forest,
And the danger of all keeps me awake.

So I run in new directions,
Find patches of new land,
But I’m still trapped because I know,
My supply of land will end.

There is only so far I can move,
I will never get away,
As the heaviness of my armor,
Turns my world to ever-gray.

I’m a highly intelligent creature, predator even,
Seldom close to being prey.
As prey I feel and prey I act,
When my life is bound to running away.

Can I “stop and smell the roses?”
Who’s seen roses in a forest?
But then who has seen its beasts?
I’m surrounded by small squirrels,
Whose shadows frighten me to tears.
I can be nice and I can play,
Or be wildly running life away.

A choice that sounds so easily made,
To me it seems insane.
Running is my life’s work,
My oxygen, my game,
But behind closed doors,
In fleeting moments,
A quiet thought passes.
What if, 
I simply,
stayed?