I, Too * 12 Hours Later..

January 30th from 12pm to 12am. 12 hours of reflection.
Building something,
Something from the start of today,
Waking up and running as fast as I can,
3 miles and counting.
Calling mom on updates and
Such, asking for revelation,
Then it comes to me,
All the great things came in the
Waiting, in the stillness, in the
Wilderness, in the suffering,
In the greatness of what we have
Been looking for all along.
Yes, I too, have suffered,
And suffered recently.
Been up all night wondering
About the fight and the fists and
The things that are called future.
Yet, this is the invitation,
I am not sold or solid,
Not shaken either,
But moved around and tossed
To and fro,
Asking You: how does one grow?
He says wait for the lights and ask
Not for the blinders,
My eyes did wander
And look a little to long,
Starbucks, again, I thought
You were over that flavor,
But to the corner of that place
Was someone standing out of place.
The looked as if they have been to
The blue car before,
They asked for more,
Yes, I too give in to seduction.
I ran away and walked along the way,
I filmed and captured my self by the
Sea and the tilt of the lights that spin
Before night,
I, too, lose the dusk,
So fast and quick it does go..
I drove and drove and yet those
City lights were on my left and
You voice was the loudest of them
All,
Are we talking the same,
Are you the same?
Are we the same struggle?
Home came late and so did that text,
It invited me in and crunched the numbers,
Too,
This will cost just like the last time, and
The tenth time before that.
I want love and the last long,
And the love that lasts long,
But, I, too want the bed you made,
And the mess you make,
And the mistake that came with
Saying go instead of no!
I, too, am up late,
Because the day torments me too,
It calls me too, it calls for change,
A serious rearrange.
A serious move everything around kind
Of winter,
One, where, I, too am cold and hardened
By the wind,
And by the sound that calls me
In..
Hollow,
Silence.
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Spin

My life be spinning in circles.
Risk is the theme and so is follow through.
Diplomacy is the skill but so is power
Love is the game but so is lust.
Rust is the result, but so is fat
And sorrow, and sad, and endless
Mad!
The sight of these eyes is not satisfied,
It is filled with lie!
So color me new,
Who am I trying to fool?
I am lost in the lust it takes
To call you mine–
One whisper of your name,
Drives me insane!