Take my thoughts and turn them into dreams. rake my dreams and turn them into fate. the fate of my fathers and mothers, sisters and brothers. I spin these thoughts like wine. dripping, sweet, sour, divine. I know not of where i go in life. But certain of one thing I am...I'll be good. Good enough to accept the love of those whom I truly love. ANd good enough to leave the past in broken pieces, like so many fragments of wine bottles. Like my thoughts, wine. Like my past. bottles. together there is a shattered scene with an iron fist close at hand. Take my hands and fold them in. take my mouth and break it down. Crush my skull with the weigh of my thoughts. Blend my soul with the road ahead of me and let me sink between the nights where i am less like a child, and more as i should be. Like my thoughts, like my dreams, like my lungs; breathing in and out, never stopping. These puzzling times make me hesitate/ Am i a poet or a warrior? Do I wield or shield? who am i to the ever turning world in this long sea of black with painted stars and beautiful creatures like you? AM I to be deserving of the fates i've created for myself and others. Do i roll on, never stopping till I lay down to sleep? Or do i stop, with gentle eyes and torn heart for every breathe I steal from someone else who should have existed in my place? these things I will never know. These thoughts will ever glow. and I am still, on the ground, running through the splits in the flooring, like wine, shattered from dreams of fate, bottles of this generation.
