Write Week 8

[Saint]

hidden forest of self

lookin every which way. detached in a desolate place; I'm humbled.
lost track of time. can unwind more or less when the days are jumbled.
escaped the hustle & bustle. culled from the fray
new leaves turned. fun guy to fungi. foliage decay.
run in the haze, wonder amazed, nothing is saved
dreams loose - release the hounds who don't live for the hunt but the chase.
finding my lattitude/solitude. panorama view: "it's calling you"
imagination run wild. sun dials; picked up & talked to you.
autumn bloom. abandonment helps manage shit.
airing out issues & tears of misuse to better understand the mist.
candles lit; hold the curtains. let emotions surface.
held back yrs by a social circus that sold a purpose.
"real men hold back" -- the fight inside
no soul would search this. now a child in the woods
left alone w/ myself. roam where i dwell. I finally understood.
my fiery subtle mood set ablaze this forest n end it.
death to burdens. here to live a life where nobodys a witness.