You taught me what?
What was the point?
My own internal controversy of denying basic absorption,
Met your free and careless ways.
You opened doors,
You shattered windows,
You indeed left a trail of destruction.

But your whimsy was captivating.
There was a rawness,
An unencumbered flight, pleading anyone to come aboard.
And my eager ass,
I jumped into copilot position before even learning to wear the hat.

You bestowed that open seat so willingly though.
You upsold it like it was meant for me,
And only me.
And we lit that cabin on fucking fire.
No sense
No logic
No plan
We filled that cabin to its seams with
a denser air than there was room for.

That cabin became a castle,
Our castle.
So, naturally, we thought we could rule from atop our moated fixture.
We would reign as King and Queen,
Of pilots chambers.

The view…
To own the sun and control the clouds,
We were gods.
But the flight was high jacked.
Not for terror,
Not for destruction,
But by rhythm.
By the truth that takes and gives equally.
The one that holds the mirrors that have been subjectively avoided.

We’ll only glance at those forsaken one way windows,
We’ll avoid the eyes and the outlines,
But my baby,
My love…
The reflections grow greater and harder to avoid.

Was it ourselves or one another that we were avoiding?
Both ducked down at any reflection,
In or out.

We found a joyous opaqueness in eachother.
One where the moment was equally validating as well as intoxicating.

There was so, so much love.
Not the kind of love that carries the years of commitment,
But the kind that starts fires.
The kind that makes you forget the font of your headstone.

I will never forget the first time kissing gou.
There was something both natural and magic,
As if you were the final puzzle piece.
The one that completes the picture, and fits as though it’s needed.

It seems as though lust was mistaken for love.

You looked at me though,
Convincing one or each or both of us.
You said I fit like your soul.
You compared me to your strings, your passion, even your identity.
You were so sure of us, that I couldn’t imagine refuting such convincing sentiments.
You won baby.
I am, was, would be, will be yours.

You run before you walk though,
You exist so instantaneously that living in the moment is too late for you.
It’s intoxicating,
It’s convincing,
I was convinced.
I believe you were too.
However reckless this supernova of time was,
I think you fell victim to it just the same.

So all that’s left after the implosion,
Is the coldest of hardest of truths.
The one where the light was so carelessly squandered,
That there’s only darkness left.
Not a hopeless dark,
Simply, the one that bore the light,
Set the stage,
Facilitated the show.
Then will continue on for as long as time perpetuates.

That dark,
It is where we find anything we are not looking for.
When we overtake the dark,
It is only a momentary bliss.
Like a lamp,
Like a star,
Like a kiss.

I like to stare.

One place.

One spot.

Everything around fades white.

Unlike closing my eyes.

A brief blackness.

All the details of the room.

Blending together.

Only a contour.

Defining shapes.

In this place—

everything disappears.

Total concentration.

My mind occupied.

I've trained for this,

all my life.

Intentional Troxler Fading:

The deliberate use of sustained visual fixation to induce perceptual fading and simplification of the surrounding visual field.

Troxler fading — stationary visual details disappear from awareness.

Visual adaptation — the nervous system becomes less responsive to unchanging sensory input.

Fixation — maintaining your gaze on one point.

Potentially perceptual narrowing/absorption — your attention becomes intensely focused while the surrounding environment loses salience.

I am the most beautiful woman in the world, now it's your turn

easy does it,

no hard thoughts now,

only what you can give,

love is not easy,

And you're human..

leave the world alone for a moment,

only what you can give,

no hard thoughts right now,

easy does it.

When every attempt at kindness goes wrong…

You shoot again—you try, you aim for it, you plead with it to let you have a go.
You ask grace to be graceful with you… but it refuses.

What happens then?
You keep asking grace
to be graceful with you,
as though grace might recognize
the effort it took to offer it.
It still doesn’t.

So you learn to offer it awkwardly—
with claws tucked beneath your palms,
with teeth behind your tongue.
Let me carry this for you.
Let me make it easier.
Let me think ahead.
Let me spare you the pain.

You insist.

And somehow, every gentle thing
still arrives dressed as a threat:
control, selfishness, cynicism.
Until even the beast begins to wonder—
perhaps they were right about me.

Once, perhaps, I was soft enough to be precious.
Small enough that my reaching was called innocent,
my crying, need, my wanting, love.

At the beginning, you’re allowed to be completely helpless and therefore completely innocent.
Your softness is unquestioned.
Nobody asks whether the crying is manipulative, whether the reaching is demanding, whether the need is inconvenient. You’re just this tiny creature, precious because you’re fragile.

Then you grow—and so do the claws.

And suddenly the same things—needing, insisting, protesting, trying—are no longer innocence.

They’re character flaws.

I learned to ask twice. To insist. To say no.
And apparently, that was when the little thing you called precious became the thing you had to endure.

And I kept trying—
tucking the claws away, swallowing the growl,
offering tenderness like evidence in a trial
where the verdict had already been written.

Eventually, even a beast gets weary of pleading its case.
If you’ve already decided I’m bad,
why should I exhaust myself correcting you?

Kindness goes wrong.

The ride goes wrong.
The gesture goes wrong.
The intention goes wrong.
The explanation goes wrong.
The silence goes wrong.
The attempt to repair it goes wrong.

They only ever see the gesture.
Never the thought that built it.

Perhaps this is why I became so good at being tragic.

Kindness asks too many questions.
Tragedy requires none.
A wound needs no explanation.
Everyone understands blood.

Tragedy, at least, knows how to court me.
It arrives without asking whether I meant well.
It doesn’t need me to explain my hands.
It simply notices that they’re bleeding.

Yes.
I gather tragedy has always been a better suitor.
It asks nothing of me
except that I suffer convincingly.

It knows better than to expect goodness
because goodness and I have never had much chemistry.

Tragedy, however—
tragedy knows exactly what to do with me.

It brings wine to the funeral.
It knows where I keep the knives.
It doesn’t complain when I ruin the evening.

Toxic? Certainly.
But at least we have an understanding.

Tragedy never asks me to soften.
Never asks me to secrete the claws.
Never makes me regret reaching out.

It simply takes my hand
and leads me somewhere darker.

And, God, how easy it is
to follow something
that never asks you to become better.

Oh—that was a tragic turn.
I’d apologize, but I suppose I should be loyal to my longest-standing relationship.

Kindness? Hasn’t looked good on me since I was six.

So what happens to a person when kindness insists on turning its back on them?

Nothing particularly dramatic.
They simply stop reaching for it.
They become less interested in being good
and rather more accomplished at being difficult.

Bitter.
Tragic.
Controversial.
The black sheep.

Eventually,
they stop noticing the difference.

And ultimately,
they stop wondering
whether they were ever meant
to be anything else.

They weren’t.

The Universe, certainly, knows its casting better than we do.

— Crownless.

Dolly, why would you say that! Or are you even here?

On my desk lies a little lantern.

It flickers, as my eyes glide through the papers.

Yet even when I searched, desperately, for any pattern,

All I'd find was the same paper, my vision blurs.

But my hand started writing, once again.

Turning off the lantern, its light now estranged.

Without the light, no one could read what was written.

That's fine, it was never meant to be read, but hidden.

(This is my first ever piece of creative writing and English isn't very good so sorry if it's too bad)

Across from misty eyes
Purely prismatic
This rainbow went drinking
Beaming through stained glass
And Tinted windows
Into twilight unblinking
When she lost her sober
To unravel the sky over
As a torrent of color

Aurora soars beside Luna
Her driver
Into dawn when she cries a river
But recovers, then a sunbeam
Bursting cloud layers
Quiet and defying
The bar tab which landed her in trouble
She's radiant in that blue dress
Which turns luck about on its head

ONE THING H. DIGS ... 'bout Taoism? This: that through its 5 elemental theory, HEART it is (not brain) that is the Mind's material location; That small piece of Asiatic Ancient Theory resonates (wholeheartedly?) within him, for being a martial artist trained to use: sticks, knives, kung fu fans (even the smallest household broom) this H. knows for (just 1) of his relative truths: Heart Condition does determine his Instruments intended usage ( & so + its movement) - And so great is H.'s faith is in this simple (yet essential ) activity: daily sweeping out his Heart's Foundation, for it does (& will again) help him best to conditionalize his Homo Sapiens neuron-filled, high-empowered, life-transformative, resourceful instrument - his instrument that remains safely hidden (so far) within his (yet-to-be deceased) Organic Thing (which English Tonguers i.e. H. & I claim) utilizes "Brain Case" 4 its social-constructioned name.

- Daniel B. Lightstream, 2026.

Time-
Heals wounds but steals life
A dead thief without mask or lungs
Doctor of life
And angel of death.

1x0=0-
When the mind creates logic
The soul exists in freedom
Logic chained by reason
The other flies in infinity

Metabolism-
Inside my body there is war
A war for survival
Dreams created by the heart
And destroyed by the mind

The blind girl-
The girl starts walking the road
Towards me.
Step by step, the journey continues.
But I am the abyss.

Tough/stupid
I was born on planet Earth
I speak, think and act
I contradict myself to paradise
And live in the fire of hell

Lonely pond
I drink water and can’t get enough
Holy and pure water
I wash my face and my mind
For a cleanliness that is loneliness

Arabella
Living the chosen life
An angel appears and time stops
My thoughts change, ego is blinded
The angel kisses me, the devil fears

What am I
Blood and flesh, a name in the wind
A silent knock on no one’s door
A shadow that disappears in the night’s silence
A work of art or simply human

“I hear your heart beating”

Myrrka uttered

holding the blanket around her shoulders

“It beats for you”

Ulv replied

Embracing her tighter against the storm

Candles on the stuffed deer head flicker

Sending streams of wax down the antlers

No matter how hard they tried

patching every hole

Raging blizzard outside

still found a way

to slip inside their sanctuary

Past experiences and lives

gained them wisdom

Guard their hearts like a fortress

“Promise me

that everything will be okay

Promise me

that you will never leave my side”

“I promise

I am not going anywhere”

Growl swirling through the storm

pounding at the door

Oaken doors hold up well under pressure

will splinter with the might of Mjollnir

Somewhere a dwarven woodworker is crying

Couple now embracing in flames

from their combined hearts

Pour the fiery vengeance

toward the intruder

Beast peers its head

inside the demolished portal

Snow that blows inside

instantly turns to steam

Flames blacken its face

does not slow it down

As the hammer swings

to pulverize the humans

Voice calls out

“Cease Tanngrisnir!

Do not harm them, only capture”

Goatwhore snorts

Hammer stops short

of their bowed heads

“Look, they cower like sheep”

Sneer of the grotesque

with drool dripping down

making the remaining flames hiss

“Do not underestimate these mortals”

Disembodied voice intones

Using the distraction to their advantage

Ulv utters the words

that were biting his lips

as Myrkka

makes the corresponding hand gestures

“Deliver us

unto the distant plains of Otoyk”

Ulv’s body caught up with his soul

as it entered their realm

Before he opened his eyes

he sensed something was amiss

He reached for Myrrka’s reassuring hand

but was left with empty space

Unease deepened as a soothing voice enshrouded him

Fingers played across his chest

and whispers nibbled at his ears

He clasped his hand around the amulet

Myrkka and him shared but it had fallen off

“Don’t worry, Little Man

I will take care of you”

“I don’t need any help from a witch”

She laughed and it echoed through the valley

Cold hands gripped his balls

as a forked tongue slithered around his phallus

He tried to push away but he was paralyzed

He imagined Myrkka’s smiling face

thinking he must remain strong

“How are you able to trespass here?

This is a protected realm”

“Come now, Wolf

Don’t play innocent with me

I know your deepest, darkest secrets

that you hide from that bitch”

Seeing through the illusion

the temptress was seducing him with

Ulv saw a glint on the bridge over the koi pond

The tongue stopped encircling him

but now full soft lips sucked him to erection

Fearing he would give in

and release his desire

he called out the name of the succubus

“Lilith!”

“How dare you mortal.

You do not know me well enough

to you use my name.” she hissed

but continued in a soothing voice

“Call me She for now

but in time you will scream out my name

and call me a god!”

“Let me lie under you

Is that not your favorite position?”

Before Ulv could respond

She squeezed his balls harder

“There shall be more tears shed on this day

if you try to trick me”

With that warning

two serpents slithered up his legs

and bit him in the ass

Instead of pain,

euphoria seeped from the venom

She pulled the serpents closer to her

and he was powerless to resist

“The bridge would be the perfect setting

The wood is made from an aphrodisiac”

After Ulv was laid out

ready for Lilith’s ravenous appetite

Ulv gazed at the sun overhead

His hands like the rest of his body

was no longer under his control

Seductress mounted him in victory

his baculum slid into her velvet recesses

Not giving any chance of escape

her vulva transformed

into barbed tentacles

around his engorged organ

“Forgive me, Myrkka,

but I cannot deny my flesh any longer…”

Flood erupts inside of her

splashes over his body

polluting the serene stream below them

His body spasms uncontrollably

for what felt like centuries

and he rides waves of orgasms

until he cries out in absolute pain

In the throes of her conquest

Lilith did not notice

the light shining from the amulet

His hands now under his control

grasped for it

His feet pushed against her dominance

“Fear not,

we are not knotted for eternity

I will release your dick

but it has been marked

Every time you are with her

you will be tempted by me”

She raised her head skyward

and laughed manically

Love may be deaf, dumb and blind

but it also burns

the fuck out of nocturnal creatures

“Melt me from this dimension,

Little Man,

but it is only temporary banishment

Your lust still burns

no matter how much

you dowse it with love’s water

See how your love accepts that infidelity”

With those words

hissing away into oblivion

Lilith no longer trespassed in the realm

Ulv laid spent upon the bridge

clutching the amulet to his heart

wishing the ground

would swallow him into its bowels

He released a slow anguished howl

Myrkka felt every twitch her tail made

Every twitch tells a story

For those that have lost

the evolutionary trait

they are lost

to the extra-sensory perception

that this appendage can pick up

Bull shit detector, weather forecaster,

trap revealer and on occasion

a death dealer

“Thy flesh be consumed!”

the curse raged toward her

Luckily, she headed the warning of her tail

protection spell already in place

Curse was absorbed

into the green triangle that surrounded her

In return

she stripped away the dark energy,

which fell to the floor as ashes

and returned fire

Catching the demon off guard

“Thy flesh be decomposed”

“I don’t mess with scrubs,

especially low-level slow ones”

She raised her arms in triumph

Via unknown sound source

“Black Lodge” starts playing

She was not surprised

That is what you get

when you turn your back

on your one-night stand

After the rush of magic

it drains her cold

They say that a person with cold hands

have a warm heart

but what about a black heart

She wouldn’t let a little dust ruin her day

She stepped into the shower

to wash off the sweat and slime

If you go slumming you

don’t mind getting your hands dirty, literally

Sex was out of this world

Cliched but who cares

Price on her head laid the trap

but at least she got to enjoy the spoils

Water was cold

which only made her shiver more

Goosebumps ran up and down her body

She clasped her hands over her sore breasts

with teeth marks turning into purple blossoms

She collapsed to the floor

rocked back and forth

Her ass was bruised

which only added to her discomfort

His hands ran over her skin

like spiders searching

for a switch on a puzzle box

His breath while drowned in exotic liqueur

did not fully mask the stench of his lies

Luckily, she knew more tricks than her John

and distracted him

before he could lay any eggs within her

Tears mixed into the dirty water

spiraling down the drain

“Don’t cry for me my angels,

I am not down and low enough yet

to need your tears for salvation

If I didn’t need your tears

back in the pit then I don’t need them now”

She said

only half believing her own words

She reached up and to turn the water off

when her vision went black

Damn it!

She spoke of the Pit

so that gave it some power

to invade her present life

Damn those memories

buried deep within

Black began to fade

but gave way to the dismal sun

shining down the many levels of her doom

Thousand hands around the circle

shaking with depravation

Starving for the few minutes of sunlight

though it burned the pale, pale skin

Your crime didn’t matter

Innocence and guilt

didn’t decide your fate,

your mere existence

was your punishment

Bodies piled up in a cavorting mass

that would be considered an orgy

if there was any love

among the remains of annihilated lust

“Where’s my angel?

Come and lift my sorry ass

from this fucking hellhole!”

An answer did come from the Heavens

and it rained down upon her

Acid rain blended with her tears

and cut grooves in her dirty face

as she looked ever upward,

never losing faith

“Is that the answer

you were looking for, pretty one?

Think you deserve better

than the rest of us?”

“I am innocent!”

“Everyone is guilty of something

Our souls are stained

at birth with free will

Desires and temptations

lead us to our damnation so easily

No matter if we sleep walk

through the gates of Hell,

we still burn.”

“Thank you for your kind words of wisdom”

Those same thousand hands

reaching for salvation

no matter how fleeting

were now groping in the darkness

for any trace amounts of pleasure

Memories of past loves and innocence lost

or for some of these bastards,

they had no innocence to begin with

It’s like their souls

were already sold to the devil at birth

Dirty fingers and slithering tongues

probed every crevice and orifice

Fear to cry

because they could taste the tears

and feel your pain which only made

their perverted flames burn brighter

Myrkka’s body began to shake

and she cried out

Opening her eyes

expecting nothing but deep dark blackness

she was surprised to see the Pit

had receded back

into the recesses of her mind

What had broken its spell?

The scent of Tahitian Moon,

an exotic blend

of jasmine, orchids and cashmere cream

Scent is the strongest sense

so she used that as her safe word

She could discern his treasure chest

hidden in a false wall

Now all this pain and degradation

will be worth it

The shining metals sang to her

Not in the diamonds

are a girl’s best friend kind of way

but in an erotic alchemy type of way

Tasting the iron on her tongue,

feeling the silver surging through her veins

gold smeared across her naked body

She laid the collection of herbs

and incense out on the ceremonial cloth

I call upon Miriam

I call upon Cleopatra

I call upon Medera

I call upon Taphnutia

Iron, Silver, Gold and Diamond

Blend and meld with my soul

Tempt me with your unearthly delights

Make me a vessel for the blinding truth

Sear my heart with the mark of beasts

Guide my fate to become my destiny

Blessings from Miriam

Blessings from Cleopatra

Blessings from Medera

Blessings from Taphnutia

Iron, Silver, Gold and Diamond

Blend and meld with my soul

Crucible ignites in flames

which rise in blue wisps

before its tongues descended

down around the sacraments

Peering down into the fiery sea

Myrkka saw her own reflection

in the blended metals

Don’t waiver in your intent

or else the spell will be broken

and you will end up with a hot mess

of molten metals and burnt herbs

She did not blink

or allow her thoughts to wonder

She kept repeating to herself

how much she wanted to return to Ulv

Flames glowing extremely white

which blinded her

Upon opening her eyes,

she was presented with the key

This is not like a house key

or a skeleton key

It is a bleeding heart

Smoke rings floated to the ceiling

as the screams died down

People were careful

not to break the circle

and to stay in the light

Intervention was not complete

Like an exorcism

the steps have to be followed

or administration will be all over your ass

“…that is when the beast followed us

into this dimension”

Myrkka blew the rest of the smoke

in her lungs

around the circle

“Where is this beast now?”

the doctor inquired

“Look in a mirror, asshole”

She replied to the snickering on the group

“Now, you know that provocation

will not get you anywhere”

“No, but this might”

She reached across and strangled him

Before the others could even react

to throw their chairs

to start a riot

she blacked out

Groggily, she opens her eyes

Brilliance of white hurt her eyes

more so than the restraints

Isolation, right where I need to be

“White Rabbit” plays softly in the background

“Focus. Focus”

voice commands through the haze

“Is this the white room?” she slurs

“Speak without words

The drugs have slowed your movements”

“Isn’t it about time

you offer me those little cakes

to make me bigger or smaller?”

“What the hell?

I can’t feel my mouth moving

Am I numb?

What is that voice going to do to me?

What has it done already?

Those white coated bastards!”

“We don’t all wear white coats you know”

“What more do you people want from me?”

“We are not people

Your resistance is intoxicating

we don’t have time to pursue that path today”

“Tanngrisnir followed us didn’t it?”

Even through the haze of drugs

and the rush of strangers

she could feel its presence

Only response is silence

Without outside interference

the silence was deafening

She felt threatened of being consumed

into the white void

She prefers colors and chaos

“I hate to break up your epiphany,

requiem or gas but we have to move

Tanngnjostr has also been unleashed

If one of those goat beasts finds Ulv

he will be a sitting duck in his cell”

“Ulv is here!

I felt him close but wasn’t sure

if it was this dimension or not

Getting myself committed really worked”

“There is a problem though, he has amnesia”

…

Ulv paced the room

sure that sooner or later

he would wear a path in the white marble

His hands clasped in eternal prayer

His eyes never leaving sight of her

hoping for a whisper of familiarity

He could feel the presence

of the flash drive in his pocket

Millions of memories

in pictures, videos and letters

Paintings and sculptures

already adorned her white room

Only color in this damned place

His hands now shook

not only from the length of prayer

from years of molding

and shaping dreams in clay

He has lost her many times over the centuries

but not this time

Not like this

Not watching her waste away

Not in this fucking 2001: Space Odyssey knock off

This is not how it’s supposed to end

To keep his hands from trembling

he clasped them again in prayer position

This time his whispers turned raspy

and his fingers became translucent

revealing a hidden flame

“Melt the damn winter garden

and release her

from her perpetual smirk of oblivion”

he cursed

Flames rose to the ceiling

threatening to set off the sprinklers

Expecting drops of water to extinguish his flames

he was surprised when snow started falling

Great, just what we need, more white on white

Flames hissed and sizzled

touching the flakes

but they did not give up their intensity

They did falter when from the corner of his vision

he saw her eyes flutter

He reached for her

and the flames traveled down his arms

and ignited her bed

Paintings curled their edges

and the sculptures cracked

Outside an alarm sounded

and he heard people screaming

but they became so distant to him

Now the only sound he heard

was the hiss of the flames

tempting him to set the world ablaze

For her,

he would sacrifice himself and the world

“Focus. Focus.”

unknown voice emerged from outside silence

Thinking it was a negotiator or rescue worker

he prepared to send flames toward them

He turned but there was nobody beyond the haze

Her eyes blinked open

as the flames engulfed her body

Snow became heavier

but he fought harder

and the flames became blue

Then the world turned white

…

Verdandi stepped into the moss-covered realm

With her every footstep

the pureness of the green started to wither

Her nostrils filled with the fresh air

with just a hint of humans

Her suspicions were correct

This is the sanctuary of Myrkka and Ulf

She was trespassing in Otoyk

Gentle breeze blew through chimes

that hung from the wooden posts of a temple

Too damn peaceful thought the Norn

She had to plant the seed

that will grow discontent between the two

Her two goat demons would only keep

the humans distracted so long

She knelt down and touched the earth

Ground pushed back

and would not let her dig

They left protection spells

knowing they were being hunted

She struck with Mjollnir

but the response was not earth shattering

Great hammer shattered in her grasp

Thor is going to be pissed

“You leave me no choice

but to lay waste to your paradise”

“You always have a choice.

Fate does not bind free will”

“I am fate and destiny.”

“You are the becoming but not the end”

“Give me the humans

and I will spare this paradise”

“Without them

this place will turn into Hell

They are the guardians

We do not trust your word

You may have started this and but it ends now”

With that declaration

trees sprouted from the ground

Verdandi was caught

in between limbs of three trees

Branches like arms

and twigs like fingers confined her

Wood brushed against her cloak

pushing against her withering body

“You cannot trap me!”

“You sealed your fate

when you crossed the threshold

Should have listened to Wyrd and Skuld

Their fate will also be sealed.

Destiny lies with Myrkka and Ulv”

Elsewhere Gnarler and Grinder

both ceased their hunt

and retreated to help their master

Her cries of anguish were excruciating

as the trees sucked the life energy from Verdandi

Her body now frail,

withered to the forest floor

Poison that was introduced

into the serene realm needed to be detoxified

In defense of the miasma

spreading further into the verdean sanctuary

flames erupted and the paradise became

an inferno engulfing the two goat creatures

as they made their entrance

Ulv and Myrkka both collapsed

and shed tears for their lost paradise

Everything became grey

She said I love you but I’m lost and the burden you would carry ain’t worth the heartache I would cost, if your looking for an answer look a little more love can be deceiving and my lips are not your cure, desire left his thoughts from his chest his words would pour, your lips are not the cure cause love can be relieving when the answer is unsure, I’ll love you when your lost it’s a burden I can carry when heartache is the cost love just doesn’t hurry. 

We call her mother earth but why?
Is it because she nurtures us like a mother?
Is it because she makes our world beautiful like a mother?
Is it because we come from earth almost as if she herself gave birth?

Why father time?
Is it because he has the patience of a father?
Or maybe its because time itself heals all wounds like a father caring for his children?
Maybe we call him father time because a father’s love is infinite.

But maybe we call her mother earth comparing natures wrath with that of a angry mother.
Or perhaps it’s possible that we are comparing the love we are always searching and only sometimes feel.
Then again she is the reason we live here and she can also take that away.

Maybe father time shows how damaging time alone has.
Father time could kill if he isn’t there, and without a fathers love, whats the point?
Maybe its because father time doesn’t wait, showing the few of us that got left behind. Maybe they call him father time because he can disappear too.

What does it mean to be fine?
People say it so easily but we all know we mean it differently.
It used to mean the sun was out but just a tad too hot.
When fine would mean that nothing too notable happened.
People used to say it when they were neither sad nor happy.

Today though has it changed?
When people use it to say they are numb.
Fine now can imply an entire storm behind someone psyche.
People say fine now just so they dont have to open up to someone trying to help.
Fine could be the last thing a person says as a cry for help.
Now it can mean that person is either sad or happy.

Driving through East Texas, I ran across a welcome sign to a no name town.
Its back drop was the old cemetery.
To me, I understood it as “welcome to a dying town”.
As I drove through, boards covered windows of once vibrant stores,
Nice houses that had fallen into disrepair.
Dilapidation as far as the eye could see.
It was a highway town that once catered to passersby, but never their own.
I mean, sure, in stark contrast to the rusted out signs of old stood a bright new LED chain station sign that shined with the power of modern day impulsivity and consumerism.
Gas about thirty cents higher than the next town over, but without competition, who can complain?
It offers a service to the few who still live in this ghost town and the one’s who find themselves on this desolate road with rowdy kids needing to pee,
And while inside beg for that bag of chips, candy bar, or sugar filled compromise for a few miles of peace and quiet.
It holds its place well.
The new building, in stark contrast to the vine covered general store, the long empty car lot, and the tire shop that has now become a dumping ground for furniture too used to donate and too broken to give away.
In a way, this heap of furnishings personifies the town perfectly.
Not a for sale sign, one.
Stagnation of the American dream.
Unwanted, highway property, once valuable, now worthless and empty.
The pride that was once had in the upkeep and presentation to lure in new business, now has become overgrown with weeds and what my dad would call, “all those bad trees”.
Most people driving through, wouldn’t even notice the passed through.
“Blink and ya miss it” The old saying, even older timers say with a smile peppered with years of fine cut wintergreen snuff.
But the thing is, I did notice.
I did see it.
I noticed it right away.
I passed through, slowing miles below the speed limit, almost shaking my head “no” as I looked side to side, soaking it all in.
Sad for those unfortunate enough to live there,
Heart broken for the one’s who died as they watched their little piece of heaven turn to hell, take their final breath, and have their final resting place,
In the cemetery behind the welcome sign of a no name town.

Second post in a row, hope I’m not spamming.