Baited steps into the
places I have no recollection of
Lucky streaks have kept my
dawns from going dusk forever

I awake to the
illusion of walls and mirrors
And fall into a
trance of timeless becoming

Back to, and out of, this dream
I’ve wept over bleak aspects
but have never been more enamored with
My patience for the meaning

My dawns and dusks give way to the
silent mornings I can think nothing of.
The laymen I am floats, basks,
And sinks into
The novelty of this one

Published by Kevin J

I think I write to try to explain moments that I don't truly understand. That's why I have a tendency to be wordy. The closer I am to minimalism, the better off I am. I also do it to keep records of what I was thinking at certain periods of time, so some kind of footsteps are left showing me how I got here. Looking back, it seems inevitable that I am where I am now; couldn't have been anywhere else. I don't have any goals for the future, except for trying to enjoy it. I'm the opposite of most people I know; I no longer want to know what is coming up next. I just want to create the road and ride, or not create it and ride anyway.

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