New Years Resolutions, Tiny Angels Bleed

This journey
life its called
this karma free for all
back and forth a saviors hell
attempts to speak to tiny angels.

In the lore
place mats on my table
protect the meal from wear.
Understood circumferences
worn
back and forth
never ends.
Perhaps that's the plan after all?

I write my journey
keep track of all those notes.
Plans for the future
watch ocean tides
chances for revival
blossoms on a tree.
I see tomorrow and me.

I spread my wings
fairy dust does coat each stroke
miracles tied
ever so cleverly
with a shipping vessels ropes.

Pelted with regret at times
undefined
yet
meeting too much definition.
Keep it still
float that boat
lift up my sail
bitter past
bitter note.
Lift up that sail
now, tomorrow and me.

Tiny angels that bleed
Angels never used to fall.
One fairy stood her ground
she stayed for me.

Gathered ideas
posted their lessons
weighed claims.
Rolled up useless
stored it anyway.

Each trial she met
an architects drawing
have to understand perspective
or buildings will fail.
I feel the edges
I scream that dream
so I can hear it.
Decode its secrets.

Five bottles left
they contain my rhythm
define the borders
at all cost.

Past rules and decisions
I define my fate.
If I don't watch myself
I will walk all over
stomp in the ground
that designated pathway
without a humble sound.

Hope in the seeing
sameness as an enemy
dig out those worn down pathways
dusty plans
redesign their voices
hear them clear
and every single day
reject their fading dots.