Ponderous PigeonSupporterThis blog pays for a plan and keeps the site running.

The sun is sluggish to rise, although it will be in anger this day. Only those working construction and those without construct exist on the street. Huddled next to a neon church, named Hungry Jack. A place with no locks on its doors. So those who abuse substances, more terrible than what the establishment offers, call home. While I have heard and seen many a sadness, this one is sure to take the day. At least, I hope, I can bear no other than this. A woman, barefoot, holding a blanket. In a daze of whatever flows throw her veins. Staring at the reflections of neon, as if peering into…

How long can one live in the depths of their mind, before coming up for air?

How long can one pan through the dirt before they realize their reflection holds gold?

I've come up for air and do not recognize the world.

I see silver, not gold.

Arecibo,

What obvious beauty your streets held, even barely lit by the moon.

I do not know what I was looking for in your darkness.

But I can tell you, no one I found was lost.

And in that darkness, I saw light in all those whom were on their way.

They illuminated the footsteps I should take by showing me where they have been.

I found light on your ill illuminated streets.

Arecibo,

What obvious beauty your streets held, even barely lit by the moon.

I do not know what I was looking for in your darkness.

But I can tell you, no one I found was lost.

And in that darkness, I saw light in all those whom were on their way.

They illuminated the footsteps one should take by showing me where they have been.

I found light on your ill illuminated streets.

A wolf that only howls at a full moon, rarely expresses it's true nature.

Turn yourself in...
To me.

Some mirrors behave in the most peculiar manner.

Some still. Some in water, provided by the rain. Others in ornate glass.

But the ones that move are the most dangerous of all. They see and reflect more in you than all of the others.

They have a name.

They come in pairs.

And strike fear in what they reflect.

Your eyes are beautiful.

https://open.spotify.com/track/2lxek8twv43ZPtKHKBVnOG?si=6Vljp-TkRIuRJ1\_9D9-mBw&utm\_source=copy-link&pi=gyht1XwhSwu5m&sci=spotify%3Acard-config%3A4hEqHwwc9tqLq6KBena9Da

How long can one live in the depths of their mind, before coming up for air?

How long can one pan through the dirt before they realize their reflection holds gold?

I've come up for air and do not recognize the world.

I see silver, not gold.

I look happy in your eyes.
My mirror holds nothing but lies.

I need your smile on my reflection.

My mirror depicts deception.

It shows me as I am.

But in your eyes, I see what I could be.

When did you give up on your dreams?

...when I forgot that I still had them.

A wolf that only howls at a full moon, rarely expresses it's true nature.

A man is walking down a tunnel, similar to one leads out to a football field. As he gets closer, he is more visibly nervous. Until the point where he stops. Camera is behind him putting him in sillouette. He reaches out to the wall to lean on it, with his right hand, which is holding a briefcase. He leans on the wall with his head down. And he sees a NASA sticker on it, an old one. He tries to touch it and hesitates. He is going to give up. He grows to grab the door handle with his left hand, confirming he is giving up. Something grabs his briefcase. It's a 5yrs old kid.…

If it were my fault.

It may have never happened.

I should be kind in my choices.

Just because you sought shelter in a storm, does not mean you deserved the cold. Where else would one find warmth, if not in embrace?