when you leave my view do you still exist?

it’s almost one in the morning

toes tickled by the sand

the full moon lights

i can see beyond the length of my hand

 

but i can’t see the horizon

waves crash on this beach

but vision of is out of reach

 

the edge of the earth i could fall off of

no longer exists

and to my perception doesn’t matter

 

the waves with their endless splatter

mock

unwilling to reveal from their stock

the water that washed ashore

at big sur

while jack kerouac sat there

unsure

 

and lately i feel so far

from the dark streets of decay

no

i’m not ready to come out and play

but i’m ready to say

this sequel needs to end

 

i’m just not sure what is the next pretend

a moment that lends motion that makes me feel i’m alive

and not just living

 

all stories need a climatic ending

or do they?

i’m rescinding

and no longer lending my strength

to the definition of length

that can’t be seen

 

when plants only share the color that is green

and keep the rest to themselves

 

all i’m saying is the thing missing from your shelf

is not a problem

unless you believe it to be

freedom exist when you no longer can see

because perception is an illusion

lacquered with the language they gave you

to make sense of what your senses sense

 

if you hadn’t been taught what you know

a different truth would have been bestowed

because all things are as you have been told they are

not because they really are

 

yes they exist apart from your perception of them

but they do not exist as you perceive

and you will never be free

until you are relieved of all your senses

 

no cup is ever truly empty

they are always full of air

at the darkness obscuring the horizon i stare

and realize

nothing

 

***