Mirthmancer

This feeling, it's fickle - it comes & it goes. Consuming our conscience & curling our toes. The code is concealed - we covet its capture. We keep it too close for fear of a fracture. A trickle of triumph, a trapping of truths. It twists our desire & blossoms our blooms. It's awesome - impossible - the warmth we can feel. Just pause before breaking the hearts that you steal. So easy to fall - we tumble, we trip. We stumble and crash when our feet start to slip. It rips through your rhythm, erasing your agency. Embracing the taste of their radiance aimlessly. (Tasting their radiance - embracing it aimlessly.) Your tongue becomes tied as you look into their eyes, and you're shook by their depth when they lower their guise. The soul, it will sing, when safety, you bring. Creating a place where your traps never spring. Expectation is wasted when placed on another. Accept or reject, but give grace to your lover. You are the only one you can control. Being yourselves is what coupled your souls. It's not about owning, postponing, possessing... It's sharing, it's daring to care, and caressing. The tenderness tries you, it bends, it breaks, and it binds you. Cherish the ride whenever love finds you.

For years I tried to fit myself into another's box. Stifled tears & rife with fear that I was not enough. Clocking in, another win to keep my spirit stocked. Finding purpose in my service, I strove to be a rock. Once my stone was thrown, I hadn't grown the way I thought. Scribbled lines and wasted time and lessons I forgot. I looked inside in hopes I'd find the answers that I sought. And when I failed, I blazed the trail to reap a finer plot. Soon I'd find it wasn't inside, but in the eyes of friends of mine. Old companions there to show the light I once possessed. Comrades, new, to share their truths and push me towards my best. Infused with grounding, love surrounding, my dreams could manifest. Then suddenly time was no longer wasted. I lived and I loved and I lost my taste. Erased my regret, and wisdom replaced it. Found greatness to love in myself, and embraced it. Spend all your time on skills you can hone, but life lacks meaning if you live it alone. Boldly show the ways you've grown And seek the people that feel like home. Now rise - protest - if life doesn't fit. Invest yourself in all that you give. Alone, we only hold one ticket to ride this world and try to live. So find your tribe and harmonize. Forgive your former enterprise. For only through each other's eyes may we get a glimpse of another life.

If a witch turned you into a mushroom, how would you be consumed? Harvested from the ground, would she eat you whole? Raw and profound with an uncooked soul? Perhaps dry you out and grind you to dust? Pour you into a capsule or bake you into crust? Boiled til bouncy or steeped in a tea? It's astounding all the fungal forms you could be. And then, let's consider what you might do! What sort of reaction would your powder produce? Will you make music louder or make her world rounder? What kinds of feelings does your essence induce? Does she feel confused? What spices did she use? The pungence and flavor derived from your abundance is something to savor - we strive for indulgence. Might your unfiltered culture cause splinters in her sculpture? Your unscripted structure may bewilder and touch her. Pilfer her mind for the secrets inside. Dissolving the wall that her damage designed. Exposing it all for her psyche to solve - she captured catharsis when you form was devolved. Don't fear the digestion as your pieces progress. You've dished out your service - why protest your purpose? You'll return to your form once you pass through her storm. Reformed with the earth to unite with your swarm. The process completed, your heart restarts beating. She honored her promise, and made you a treat.

There's a taste in the air that I can't seem to place The scent of it stings. It's tingling my face. The ocean is raging from people packed tightly, shoulder to shoulder. Now, give me the night. If Benson believes in me, I'll achieve an evening of action, pleasure and distraction. Acting out scenes that play in my dreams. I mix them with facts and spark a reaction. Blasting the senses with inputs and blends - amalgamations that help us ascend. Am I missing the mixture's essential components? Maybe I measured too much for the moment? Woah. The size of that serving has started a swirling. Commencing a whirlwind of swerving and twirling. My world is turning, upending, and whirling. Curtains encroach on my sterling hypnosis. Clash with the blackness; a struggle ensues. Glimpsing my doom as my soul is consumed. That veil - I know it conceals something sacred. I can't seem to make my way through while this wasted. My axes are aching. This pain is an awakening. Waiting for the cyclone to settle, it's better to just let it be and breath in deeply while seeking a reef I think I can reach. Stand on the sandbar in awe of the sea, stretched to encompass the concept of me. Feed upon oxygen, then stretch my feet. Flee from the box I'm in - set myself free. Fragments of failure float in my mind For the cave I crawled out of was my own design. I played through each phase and escaped the cascade, but the hole I climbed up from was one that I made. Accepting my actions, adjusting my attitudes, detecting distractions, and trusting in gratitude. Truly there are far more taxing escapades than exploring eternity & returning unscathed. Introspective affection back under control I've emerged from the experience with a skip in my stroll. Observing exposes I'm somehow more whole. A sterling hypnosis to remold the soul.