First Steps

The cold is here,
and once I again I yearn for longer days,
warmer nights,
from the comfort of my own home.

I long for the glow of a candle,
the pop from a stereo needle,
the soothing burn from a cinnamon tea,
flowing through my insides,
spreading like a welcomed disease. 

Outside there is nothing but scorn.

Cold,
diseased,
death,
coating my bones,
creaking across my body,
and freezing the little bit of Ocytocin left in my brain. 

I am unable to help others,
until I too am helped. 

I rise,
but can't commit. 

God grant me serenity,
to accept the wicked in others hearts,
the courage to face it head on,
and the wisdom to apologize,
when applicable. 

High Hat

I am mesmerized,
and enfantalized,
by the idea of peace and beauty.

I find,
the down time,
to be the most excruciating. 

To be alone with ones thoughts,
is torture in its own right.

I'd rather stare at my own reflection,
than recall all the horror's of the world,
closing in around me. 

Better yet, 
the horrors I've single handedly caused by my own ignorance. 

Yes,
we're all guilty.

Some,
more than others.

The worst thing you can do,
is turn a blind eye,
swallow your pride,
and walk with your head high. 

There is no peace and beauty,
without retribution and accountability.