change...

thoughts are chase by emotions that believe they are summoned....

every time the mind spins in solitude feelings cling to me useless memories...

unable to vibe with the shock wave of laughter of how everything has changed...

following words across white space to fill depths opening up with lost energy...

all but forgotten is the are the phases of time repeating in the remembrance of self...

transformed with the shedding of weight to free the burden of its own duties...

age creeps along until a room is the only thing to witness life shake its head...

thinking with the chest waiting to awaken to a fresh sense of beauty...

wondering will it finally have its moment to complete a task inits rarity...

the beating on the pulse is heard pounding on echos trying to get them to submit...

still going strong is the battle within that resembles patience holding hope...

enlightening the gathering of what needs to change is one could actually admit some shit...

so days can find a purpose to enjoy pieces unused that connect the thinker n the feeler...

at war is motion where comfort is a conflict between being alone n having a friend...

goin the distance unseen by the naked eye that can only be witnessed in the mirror...

it all turns out differently that what intent in the start of every last gesture made...

from the tears of struggles to the dreams of wanting something to last a lifetime...

calling on desires to hush jus long enough to gather where in the fuck trust can rest...

as faces change shapes as so expressions worn are only along for the ride...

somewhere in the stillness the music can be heard for peace to settle on pillows...

tired from all the chaos n havoc that has corrupted willingness' use...

rage n selfishness rips passion as if picked apart by its own flaws...

to gain control of character shattered one to many time for the weakness rallies in the abuse...

knowing the wall must come down at some point to fulfill the balance spoken of...

taking into consideration of intention of others that drift in the wondering hype...

fantasy based nightmares haunt the nights deep into the darkness shattered about...

covering angles that when questions seek answer in the matters of why...

as sighs find air to conclude there's a lil more left to be had with a change...

groped by lips on the exhale the heat reminds the bow of a kiss worth a fuck...

creating a tilt to lean on a teeter towards loneliness claiming it's had enough...

only wanting to wake from the tug that pulls both ends of consideration to remain as the crutch...