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Reason

               And so it begins, social phobia settin’ in, and it’s like I can feel all of their eyes crawlin’ across my skin. And I know that they’re wonderin’… because they’re always wonderin’.
               I stretch the limit past the reason, peeling open my skull and searching every fuckin’ season, because I must find the source of this open pourin’ lesion. Gotta stop the bleedin’… gotta find the reason.
               A shadow cast against every happy memory, the darkness in the back over every face I see, because I know that they’re dead, just as dead as fuckin’ me. How much farther can it be… and how much more must I bleed?
               Then I found my smile cause I smoked an ounce, saw death in my dreams just waitin’ to pounce, but it was written in words I couldn’t properly pronounce, because the reaper told a secret I just couldn’t announce.
               Like dreams of stone drawn upon the sand, or a dreaming woman lost inside a man, or the stretched out palm of his sweaty hand, or like a broken prospector mining goldless land. What happened to the plan, did it die with the lamb, what happened to the plan? Please God, save this man.
              

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Posted by on April 1, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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No Matter

               Tendons and wires composed of broken inhibitions, struggle to hold the head aloft. The stomach threatens rebellion as will alone keeps the stomach spasms from inciting the riot. The pain has become as familiar as that little voice that never learned to leave. Whispers of frail mortal mockery leave a festering sting that only deepens as the coffin closes on yet another precious life. It breaks like waves upon a stubborn rock wall, patiently waiting for the stone to weaken, crack and break. Liquid flows like death across the path ahead, all the while the shores behind grow pale and dark in their passing. It’s something inescapable. It’s something that hides behind smiling eyes and molten anger. A measure of intelligence and understanding. Fade from memory much like the calloused hands behind monolithic stone. Immortality only gained as a questionable guess.

               Imagine a guess extended the length of time. Imperfections and insecurities stripped bare like meat from bone. A floating intuition left burning in the darkened sky, casting hope to weary hearts and tear burned eyes. Felt like a secondary heart beat that flees through the eyes once it’s companion falls. It’s something hidden there. Just behind the eyes. Imagine a guess extended beyond eternity.

 
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Posted by on February 14, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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Burning

Give me but a moment,  I beg, to collect these thoughts that much like incessant insects, buzz around my head so quickly that they make me spin. See I stared at a western horizon that was so black that the very hope was choked in my throat before a word could even be uttered up in prayer. I saw the world turn white at the darkest point and watched the world painted in cold. The red hill to the south was finally smothered in white as I fell backward through a warm moment and found a sick betrayal of momentum. I tried to stop the backward spin through the chaotic white hills that orchestrated the spin at the end of all time. The ashes splinter into a fractured sense of seduction, as the addiction turned pale and bled out all over the knights of perdition.

There they go again. Little bastards are constantly running away from me. It’s like a crackhead on a bender with two overworked cops thrown in a blender. See because they saw me, they assumed I was found. The blue stretches on forever, stretched thin over iced oceans and snow blasted desolation. I clutched so hard and still it seemed to slip my hands. I’m so very scared. I’ve seen the monster that lies at the far edge of the night. I was hoping for a dream that was worth fighting for. Hoping on a dream.

I would scream if I only had a voice worth hearing. I would tear the sheet that separates me from what I’ve done and who I’ve been. I would rip the flesh from the former to recreate the latter. I would spit back the pill and remember that the hole can never be fed with chemical satisfaction. I would prevent the constant spin that split the seems and left my childhood buried in black tar heroin. I would flee from the cold pale eyes that haunt the very air I breathe. The dodged bullet wasn’t worth the price paid in blood and life. The trip should have ended and the smile should still have been able to shine. Let them go. Please just let me let them go.

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Posted by on January 4, 2015 in Paradise Drift

 

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Passing Grace

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Dreaming the day away with a sad sort of smile plastered against his face. He stares blankly out the window as drool forms in the corners of his mouth. The nurse is kind as she makes the rounds and dabs the spittle from his face. He offers her a barely audible sigh as a show of thanks, she gently squeezes his small shoulder before walking away. Then he’s back into that sacred home he has carved out in the corner of his mind, a haven from it all.

He is running. Moving with the speed of an Olympic gold medalist. He doesn’t remember when he started or exactly why he began to run. He just knows that he will never stop. He takes a deep breath and leaps thirty feet into the air and lands softly and nimbly. He breathes deeper the next jump, and he is floating softly all the way down to the earth below. The next time he leaps he doesn’t come down at all, instead he is soaring through white cotton candy clouds. He looks below and watches the earth get further, and further away.

A cry splits the sky and sends him crashing violently back onto the earth. Blood rolls from his eyes like tears and it stings like apathy. He can make out the faces of the people hidden behind the blood, and the crimson tears increase as a result. They were all taken before their own flight through a warm summers evening, through the ruthless autumn, and into a proper winters bed. Gone like the white cotton candy clouds and brightening night sky.

It was cold that day the concrete proved stronger than her fist, and his apathy was cured by the violent response. Pride dropped low and doors swung open. Its an instance that occurs in an instant, and is nearly impossible to find, let alone describe. It’s like a cool breeze on a warm summer afternoon. It’s much like a drive through red and orange mountains in the crisp autumn air. It’s almost exactly like curling up under a heavy blanket on a biting winter night. It’s almost just like… letting go of everything… and becoming weightless.

 
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Posted by on November 9, 2014 in Paradise Drift

 

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My Kiddie Pool

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Home becomes a distant promise as the sand increases its speed daily. Children of his blood stand abandoned and alone in an empty wasteland. The choking has begun as brittle bones slowly begin their collapse into the roses of yesterday. The villain captured the victim and with Frankenstein like brilliance, fused the poor bastard into his mind. Fresh perspectives and broken faith cause a sense of twisted euphoria in the shade cast from death’s perilous shadow. What is there for the weakened when all that’s left is a broken promise made in heated embrace?

And when the venom was flowing he felt the fangs pumping it into his open heart.  Worn like a traitors mark upon his open sleeve he dreamed of drifting through torn airwaves and open streams. She held his hand with a grip built upon an urgent need burning inside her torn heart. She led him through the crimson bath and opened the door to his redemption. The bullet tore a hole through the open door as broken waves crashed upon a desolate shore. Betrayed by convictions and closed faith, there’s no smile he can find beyond this shaded empire. Paint the clown in plain view and they still never seem to fucking see you. They can keep the truth locked and bound but they will never manage to fully cage light.

So keep your crimson bloodshed and shove it straight up your ass. You know nothing of truth and honesty nor love. It’s a broken concept in the light of your self-righteousness and your hypocritical crowns. Take your golden treasure and burn it while you hit your knees in prayer for your souls safe return. Remember the eye? The eye of a needle? Remember the meek are that way because you can’t break the unimaginable. You can’t grip dreams in your hands nor burn hope away. So bash the flesh and disguise the plan. Keep your coffers closed and hold the worlds salvation hostage behind gold-plated doors and granite walls. The Lord cares nothing for your buildings of brick and bone. Love is his currency and forgiveness and judgement are his offerings alone to give. He hears me when I cry, and he shall also embrace me when I die.

 
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Posted by on August 4, 2014 in Paradise Drift

 

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Good Medicine

psychedelic_marijuana_artTell me the story again,
the one about God.
Tell me he loves me,
that he truly cares.
Tell me he gave me life,
gave me form.
Tell me he gave me food,
water to live.
Fruit to vine,
fruit from root.
Tell me again,
how he gave me earth,
ground to stand upon.
Tell me he knows me,
knows me intimate.
Seeing me more clearly,
then I could ever hope to see myself.
Then explain,
I beg.
Explain how you can dictate,
what I take from this gift.
What tools I use,
that he gave me,
to survive.
Tell me again,
of how you know his will.
Tell me again how yours,
is the only truth to be had.
Guide me,
lie to me,
keep me safe from myself.
You have decided what your God is,
I have learned of mine.
Can you not just find happiness,
happiness that I at least know God.
Feel the energy of this creator,
falling carelessly into the web he cast.
Getting stuck,
shaking it off and rolling deeper.
I am finding the center,
trickling ever closer.
Let me be,
you find the center your way,
leave me to mine.
We will only ever always,
meet in the middle.
‘Jake Sellers ’12

 
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Posted by on January 24, 2013 in Poems

 

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Divine Truth

tumblr_lysdrfLc5c1qizutyo1_500Purple flashes,
mixed with crimson,
blinding blue crashes into me.
Knees weaken,
one strength withers,
while true strength blooms.
Learning to fall.
Fall inward.
Searching for truth.
Finding just more blue.
Clutching the moment,
as if I owned it,
snatched right out of your unforgiving hands.
Take everything from me,
I will find it once again.
Never did I give up on her,
this ancient Goddess.
Breaking all that I could in search of her.
I reveled in the sound of the crashes,
got high on the smoke,
from the fire,
built so high and with specific purpose…
I learned to live to die.
Every last breath a curse,
another lock clicking into place,
keeping me enchained to the earth.
When all I truly wanted was to fly…
Then she,
the one I wrote for,
the one I dreamed for,
the hope,
my breath,
she came to me.
I collapsed in upon her,
with little thought to what she needed,
I selfishly claimed her as my deity…
I ignored the river and steadied my hands,
shook off doubt,
cast death back to the shadows,
and dissolved into her eyes.
Flying.
Soaring.
Falling.
Breaking,
Drifting.
Flying.
Soaring.
Falling.
The cycle repeats,
but breaking slowly ceases.
Drifting,
they give in to gravity,
fingertips lightly touching,
as the wind brings them together,
momentarily,
before the storm rages on.
Every wound drives them closer,
every shattered bone,
only strengthens the bond between them.
The blood rains freely…
blending and becoming one…
when it finally falls to the surface of the earth.
It flows together,
and upward,
winding its way to each of them,
pulling them down,
into each others hungry,
waiting,
arms.
They find heaven there,
and each time it only bears yet more fruit.
Grown from soil they nourished themselves,
nourished with blood,
sweat,
and tears.
Blood gives the roots,
gives the roots a beat.
Sweat gives the bark,
gives the bark moisture,
Tears of truth,
they bring rain…
healing rain…
cleansing rain…
never pain…
There they build rock,
to set foot in,
and stay grounded there…
In their own heaven,
surrounded by the ones they love,
forever.
Jake Sellers ’12

 
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Posted by on January 19, 2013 in Poems

 

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