day one hundred sixty-three: approaching the new year.

"There are moments in our lives when we find ourselves at a crossroads. The choices we make in those moments can define the rest of our days, of course, when faced with the unknown most of us prefer to turn around and go back." - OTH

with the last days
of my graduating year
slowly slipping
away
i realize that
time for being young
has only begun
but time for being a child
has past by
the unknown
a frightful place to be
holds promises dear
and devastating
there will be tears
and trials and troubles galore
but i will not turn back
i will keep pressing on
like every year before.

day one hundred forty: shape of smoke.

think of the shape of smoke

all fluid

and bendy

it waves and winds

into the sky

interrupting my time

with the child within

the smoke is a poem

that suddenly stretches out before me

tempting me to put down the dr.seuss book

that i was reciting to us (my inner child and i)

and grasp the poem

before it slips further

into the sky

"...shape of smoke"

is a mere illusion

a distraction

a temptation

oh, the lovely shape of smoke

all covered in demise

day one hundred thirty-seven: i'm the toy.

theres an old toy

that you must give up

because if you do

your parents will provide

a nice shiny new one

and so you do

but as you go through life

with this new toy

suddenly something happens--

the toy breaks

and you just wish

with all your might

that you had that old toy

back again

because even though

it will never be the same

and even though it was old and worn out

that toy was comfortable

and easy to play with

it was your favorite

and there might not ever be another toy

just like that one

and the new ones might be shiny

but the old one had spunk...

something you cant really buy

or explain

but you keep telling yourself

even if you had that old moldy toy back

it wouldn't be the same

or as fun

as it was before

so buck up

smile

and let me go.

day one hundred twenty-two: evil all around.

evil evil all around

seeping from the vents

evil evil will surround

the sleeping children's tents

evil evil all around

breathing like a beast

evil evil all around

waiting for the feast

evil evil all around

slinks and slobbers in the night

evil evil all around

waiting to take a bite

evil evil all around

devours the rip red fruit

evil evil all around

it might be coming after you

day sixty-two: a fix.

i'm craving

an escape

i'm craving

moving on

i'm craving

i'm craving

there's an itch

inside

and a twitch

inside

every single time

i see a world map

there's so much

ground to cover

i'm ready to start now

i'm craving

i'm craving

leaving on a plane

just to go

there's this calling

from the waters

from the mountains

from the forests

every direction

from here

they're all begging

to be seen

to be touched

to be written about

there are people

some more ignorant

some less

than the ones i know

but ignorant or not

they're waiting to know my name

and i'd rather start now

than never start at all

and i'm an adult, right?

but i'm still a child...

but i could go, right?

but the crowd goes mild...

there's an itch

a twitch

i'm craving

a fix.