Vibe

Amazing orchestrations,

The mixture of dimness and warm sound massage my chest in ways I will not be able to explain,

Sheet music and swinging strings give tangibility to my pain,

And defines the existence of my soul prancing around between my bones,

Power in quick silence and that luxury in sustained tone-

Are depictions already known but displayed in states never better shown to me,

I am imperfect in the presence of something great,

I am worthless, I am presence without weight,

Clinging to the perfect reflections of what these human hands make,

Those vibes, those vibrations to cause the soul to stop and mediate on what this reality can offer.

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Afterlife

What I look for in my afterlife,

Does not involve immortality,

Does not involve resurrection,

Does not involve obvious impracticalities.

 

But involves different floors, different sections,

Dedicated to a specific time of my life,

I am a time traveler removing thorns from my side,

Giving sickness and sorrow to those who eventually would decide to be betray the generous nature of my character.

 

I would take a straw broom and sweep the path before my steps,

Brushing my ground while I  knowingly watch my body proceeded safely without harm.

I would watch me become…

What the world wouldn’t allow,

And spring from the unyielding darkness I wish I could now.

 

What I look for in my afterlife,

Does not involve immortality,

Does not involve resurrection,

Does not involve impossibilities,

But only a clear direction, reflection, and inspection of a past life I couldn’t live.

 

I wonder if I’m dead right now looking down on my past self but not really doing a good job at the sweeping, but that’s okay…I’ll eventually get it right.