Hints, p.2
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       Hints, p.2

           Ryan Paich
 
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Her Effect (many years later)

  The purpose is not to see you again

  or even for you to read these words.

  The purpose is to speak

  and not tell.

  Through your existence

  I am bound to duty.

  I believe

  the dreams we spark

  always win against mere reality.

  And that perceptions of this Earth

  are nothing

  compared to the fantasies inside our minds.

  With your memory, coincidence vanishes.

  I hold the history you are and

  choose to be a soldier of God.

  I believe

  rebirth through death occurs many times

  throughout this life,

  and some things never really end.

  I want to tell you,

  the love I hold for you is infinite,

  eternal, and devastating.

  You will not know.

  I want to tell you,

  this keeps my faith sharp;

  my pen moving across the page.

  I will never say these words.

  Instead,

  I will honor your memory

  through a choice.

  Two Lives (a hidden fire)

  You exist through two lives,

  unknowingly.

  With your sight,

  a perspective I do not know;

  a story I will never ask to hear.

  With my sight,

  the perspective I am;

  the story I will hide.

  I aim myself at you

  through the lens of heaven -

  making every moment desperate,

  unbalanced;

  beautifully broken by

  you memory.

  Accidentally Perfect (coincidence tricks)

  Stretching your gaze across past events

  reveals truths too small to notice

  while living in the moment.

  Broken perfect through divine method,

  “Save me from arrogance,” and

  “Lead me into calm solitude.”

  But you have already said that prayer,

  this gift so hard to harness,

  what starts as a clue becomes an obvious instruction

  carefully destroying yet studying the reason

  for a life to exist -

  part of the unseen consequence to every action

  placed on a timeline leading up to this very second.

  “Send me toward comfort,” and

  “Crash my life into chaos.”

  And you would not say that prayer.

  Knowing too much to turn back now

  is the best reason to realize

  there was never any chance involved -

  looking back.

  Loud (giant shout)

  and do you really think

  that’s what she looks like

  do you really think

  that’s what you look like

  what would her assessment be

  if she honestly spoke “I am…”

  just when I think

  these thoughts have her under control

  I realize

  NO SOUL IS UNWORTHY;

  HERS IS THE ONE I LOVE

  loud inside the mind

  isn’t it

  when that happens

  Angelform (fate decider and chaos pusher)

  Summon up the depths, yes, the toughest metal.

  You will need it all soon.

  There is a form you can take,

  a free energy,

  able to move within places you cannot see.

  Find me, quickly,

  you must see while you still can.

  How great the temptation is

  to give up

  as I feel the wings bursting -

  ripping through my back;

  my mind dissolving.

  The glance will be terrifying; then you will know.

  Do not ever forget.

  My eyes catch fire; then

  nothing matters anymore.

  I see a truth that will change me enough

  to almost kill me.

  No matter what happens now,

  the risk was necessary -

  we need you.

  No one will see.

  I awake wondering where I am;

  there are bars on the windows.

  Everything has an obvious explanation,

  except for these wings

  no one can see.

  Dusty Chairs (meditation reach)

  Sitting on forgotten chairs

  I walk toward the stratosphere

  above the realm of people’s stares,

  and what I would be seeing here,

  if I knew them

  and they were near.

  A key slips into an unseen lock

  doors open to forgotten thoughts

  waiting for me, pushing me in,

  the dusty chairs whisper my name.

  My soul seeks shelter as soft dust stirs;

  The light is so dim my vision blurs.

  If I cannot move,

  then the world will,

  quieting my heart; keeping me still.

  Dust consumes the Earth tonight,

  granting me a different sight -

  eyes that can see the wind.

  To drape the chairs with second skins,

  long dusty torrents will begin

  to unveil truth behind the lies

  under the surface where my mind hides,

  patiently,

  like dust that flies.

  “Catch the truth and hold it tight!”

  Creeping shut for another night

  the doors sleep silent, out of sight,

  ready to kill, ready to fight.

  The chairs will rest, and I will stand,

  trusting dust to steady my hand.

  ###

  Thanks for reading!

 
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