TakihiroCore

There is a piece that haunts the mind, An image that through time has been refined, Hand do your thing, Attack paper with colour, splash of bling, Belt it out - sing. Look in horror, A field of gore lays bare - torture, It was a dazling sun - just pretentious enough, Instead, Hand got rough, What the hell? Colour would laugh, If it wasn't dying, Hand had promised skill and craft, Bastard was lyin', #$%&*@# $%#$%# $*&*&#$@. Just slump down into bed, Thoughts turn shrapnal - glass, Overcome - close eyes, Deep shadow embraces - existential dread... . . .

"Oooor-eooo-eoooos" - Demons inside, I said "Oooor-eooo-eoooos" - Demon landslide, One more time, "Oooor-eooo-eoooos", Da' Man cast aside, "Oooor-eooo-eoooos", ran-dom flash drive, Fi'dy Fresh'n Dank P.r. campaigns, "Try some Oreos, alright?"

White twinkles, a brighter yellow, Simmer, flare, erupt and scald, A tide rising from eb to flow – reason, all goes, Left enthralled. Not even, nor prime, just a single odd, Trapped behind an erected wall, Disturbed, quietly riot behind a façade, So tall a voice couldn’t fall. Jade colored lenses, View of paintings depicting differing passages, True value unseen - Reduced to a Basic Grin,   Each reflects fear of a chance lost to past ages. Seek a single drop of sand, Beat blasts to the trumpet blare, Crescendo – bass slammed, All else fades – black and blue - tears.

Scratches mar alabaster slate, Truth mimicked in charcoal, A hand spins twine and weaves fate. A thread, one more, followed by a dozen-dozen score, Simple shapes till a picture adorn, Twist – Build –  and Form. Tension builds – seeking release, Sought judgement, impression, “Cliché” – “Derivative” – *emotions fleeced*. Pride wounded – discover a jade arrow of cupid. Catalyst, volcanoes erupt, With traitorous eyes and burned heart, Lava flows, etches. Wane crescent descends, Alabaster marred in red river leaches, Insidious little creat’res. Heart enflamed, “I

Exalted, his mask cracks - shattered. Visceral paints brush the world, Fuming and pungent they dry, Each stroke left to carrion, A ground of broken lines and awkward lumps. The fool is gone - his colours bled, The man is shallow - empty - dead, The king is hollow - unfed, Guise cast off, black prisms - threads. Round and awake - each focused and clear, Wind trickles up from empty lungs, Sharp edges fray and splay, Glass tipped and indiscriminate. Curved crescent reaches for the sky, Lies, deceits - they cry, Reaching high, His wake - they die. Exalted, Zicht stands - all else battered.

Today, I'm going to smile, Even when it is awkward. Remember: say hello, Stop waiting for others to initiate. Speak up, Or no one will hear you. If someone has something that catches your eye, Bring it up, that's why it's there. Make eye contact, No one talks to someone who looks away. Don’t panic when a conversation ends, Just start a new one. Sometimes it gets awkward, Accept it, and don’t overthink it - please, don’t overthink it. You’ll try to make excuses, Act anyway. Today - I'll break down my wall, No watching as the world passes by, And no waiting for someone to notice. Today: make a friend, Or you'll always

“It’s kind of fitting, old friend. Here you are, waiting for me at the end.” Sun setting. Birds migrating. Winter’s chill settling. He stood with his flare burning, signaling his family the conclusion of their journey. All he had to do was wait. This moment deserved tears. One arm missing, rust eating away at defining features, and still – there was a sense of wonder and possibility. Tonight would be cold; the storm ready to blanket amber in alabaster. Tomorrow, a new adventure begins. Spring blossoming. Sojourns concluding. Night falls and sunrise. “I’ve found you, old friend.”

Motion is life. When I sit still, I feel my body turn to stone, The world hidden behind a haze, My eyelids droop, Calling me back to a world only I can see. When I move, I feel a fire burn within, And the stone crumbles, Its flame clears the haze, And I can see – feels like the beginning, Energy rushes beneath my skin, And my eyes soak in the light, More than a world only I can see, I hear the wind whisper – Motion is life.