thanks for watching

i have not found myself at the end of a pen
what loses you here at the edge of everything else?
time gives me everything i need to make you mine.

IN MY THOUGHTS
you are it all

IN MY HEART
you are but an educated guest.

take pity on my foolishness - i want to make sense
yet none will cover the cost
of what comes next

BEYOND THE CURTAIN.

ive done my best not to allow my mind to wander
but my feelings for you are stronger
in your 
last
day.

to plea - DONT GO AWAY!…
bring back the cookies/cremes!

not the hollow grinding of my life time
machine.
ive held you close
but never once before

LIKE SUNDAY
her neverending dream.

“sweet savior.”
 

- Z. Hines, II

heres your name ~
the key
that unlocks your gaze
that up until now mystery
thats good ~
the title 
to an unknown symphony
- your voice
cannot escape 
what we call ourselves
beat
beat
beat
no answer
no question
your ears escape my voice
what i call for you - 
but not your name ~ 
the key
that unlocks your gaze
thats word ~
on the very first page.
before i knew
you
never 
forget.
beat 
beat 
beat.

dear lord,

protect my spirit from absurdity, angst, and boredom.

fill every moment of my life with faith, direction, and purpose.

- zlh2

what he desired was nothing short of a miracle. every action that was, seemed indicative of every action that would be; provided either party provided the courage if it ever existed. the lack thereof was markedly the natural order of things. it was this courage that fueled the leap of all leaps of faith landing in to provide the momentum for what becomes the downward spiral of what could be. love. 

to him, it was a familiar scene – skin to skin – for moments at a time, as every step closer to the inside was as great, if not greater, than the final destination… only true to the extent of the final destination, ends this story, as the rest is written in by fear. with every new story, he challenges himself to linger on the outskirts of all that they could probably be – stifling the desire for more with absence. 

unfortunately, this desire rang through his veins, to the very core of every cell of his being… his life’s purpose centered on getting to the center of his newfound escape. his newfound escape from what he presumed life to previously be… in his lapses of absence, he questioned and chastised himself for his sudden need to reappear before her… 

before he knew it, he was behind her once more… knowing if all there was would be inside – what would the totality of the feeling that would be through mean to him? provided through was even possible. provided she would allow him through once he got inside -

provided inside was ever an option. 

i stirred, watching the airplane fly backwards in the sky - i must be losing myself again. 

here was a troubled youth.

- the plate pushed away from my place at the dining room table, dinnertime proved to be more of a hassle than anything.

rubbing my eyes in disbelief, i turn my focus to the group of children playing in the distance. the street stretches for about three or four blocks without many cars, making spectacles such as this one that much easier for me to focus on. 

it spoke to me, actually - i remember my own childhood - a punishment that could never really be escaped. i had to force myself to enjoy long evenings outside embarking on quests of make believe with the many kids of my old neighborhood; the compulsory nature of this playtime pushed me to the limits of my imagination - as to me, this reality stretched the distance of about ten houses on either side. what lied beyond those boundaries were all grey assumptions of what the real world actually was. when the darkness of night crept over the residential backdrop, the scenery remained dimly lit by the streetlights - colored by the rising moon in the sky. i knew i had to return to my home - only to live in a style against my own unfounded will, medicated to the point where not even my own dreams could provide freedom or solace. for within the dawn of my life, freedom could only be reached within the depths of my own subconscious. bogged down by the god of my own creators, i never was granted a chance to understand what a taste of true reality could be. the doctrine was forced upon me hypocritically, for what was expected of me i never actually saw a clear example. any attempt of understanding this world was met with extreme scrutiny from all sides. my only method of escape was to pretend. i had to create characters for myself - in which i could alter the true sight of my world. my vision, unfortunately, was blurred. i felt confined; confined in a mind that i had limited control over, which was confined in a body with limited strength, which was confined in a world ruled by masters i still to this day have yet to see.

when my side of the world was finally silent, there was a lightbox that showed me images of an existance beyond my own; sang me songs that loosely explained my day; and taught me ideas that provided new meanings to what i thought to believe before. this lightbox kept me safe.