Drug Of Choice Poem by Ace Of Black Hearts

The compass points north.
But I just don't know.
Letting it slide.
Whispers that suggest.
Not the defening voices inside my head.
Tanning my hide.
Is it for good measure?
Or is it the purple paradox of pleasure.
All that lies inside that locked box is a weightless feather.
It is a reminder that rewards should not bring an undo burden.
Lifting the curtain.
The act, to a chapter, to a story.
It will never be finished.
No matter how hard I try.
For every good bye there is another hello.
Trying to swim in waters too shallow.
Come on take a stand, do what comes natural.
Deep breathing, internal squeezing.
Squeaking like a mouse.
Trying to jab in a joust.
No surprise when you have been thrown from your mount.
The horse was always steady, always ready and waiting.
But it just not the avenue I'm taking.
No not anymore.
To the secret forest with the bears, mountain lions, squirrels birds, bees, and trees.
Look at the harmony, the balance most will never pick up or ever notice.
I could spend all day here if time would allow.
Feeling like a window maker.
Building it so you can look through.
Capturing a point of view.
Serving you fresh stew.
Do you like how it taste?
Do you think it so bland you would rather eat tooth paste.
Shooting an arrow that travels across the world.
Over and over it goes.
When will it stop no one knows.
Bitter is my battle upon the pages of prose.
Speaking to you, like you will understand every word.
Knowing where I'm coming from, even if it's down below.
I'm hooked, addicted, give me the high and watch me reach the sky.
Nothing you could say now would make me any less proud.
I'm shaping the clouds.
Molding the clay, creating what I want when I want.
Gently, purposefully.
The defining moment when something important has revealed.
The jello has finally congealed.
In the fridge and sealed.
To at a later date be pulled back layer after layer peeled.
In my heart something has been healed.
I don't need to make a compromise.
The demon and his ultimatum.
Forgive me when I say no deal.
For while it appeals, it will never truly satisfy like that which is earned.
Planting a fern, watching it grow.
It prefers the shade, to the sun.
This what I have become.