my choice of a meal

You’re sitting down, I am standing up.

 You are getting warm, in the cold, I am untouched.

Into blindness and disfiguration.

You found your meal.

In solace of patience.

I heard Elohim.

Writing has never been enough for me.

It’s the actions said of an interrupted scenery.

not the mouths fed by pacifying them.

you tell me to shut up.

Get high, get drunk.

If I wanted to get high, I would just spin till I throw up.

And bruise my ankles with the ignorant chain.

I live a life of no vein.

I live a life of change.

The ones whose signature filled pages aren’t the same as those unmentioned.

And the 2 words following a sequence don’t equate my poets’ just.

Nothing looks the way it looks.

Nothing smells the way it should.

I wonder to get lost.

So, we can find our way back again.

To wonder and get further away.

So, coming back has the ultimate impact on my character.

A movement similar to the moon’s tides.

Going back and forth in a consoling rhythm.

I just sometimes worry that one time the waves are too strong that I can’t swim them off.

Too strong that I drown in a state of loss.

In prayers I found solace.

In rituals I defined my choice of cuisines.

When the nerves got fashioned.

A hymn was said in my ear.

That God is greater than everyone.

Growing up wasn’t easy in our rugged world of dust.

But I found my way is deeply lined with those who chose to follow what’s right.

And what’s right is what is in your heart.

And what’s wrong is what is in your ear.

And what’s in between is whatever trespassing between your mind and stomach.

Just don’t let it conquer your aims.

Don’t let it be your Might.

And I found a treasure in the hunt of knowing how.

And now the hunt shall start :).