Words (revised)

Are the words
straight from my soul?
Can you sense if I'm sincere? 
Does it feel forced or phony? 
Do I write for you
 or for me? 
No.. 
I couldn't clearly see..

I've forgotten who it's for
not worried about that anymore, 
not like before
when it felt like a chore 
to care if a message was
 shared or felt,
now its part of me
something I have to do.

A new destiny has been declared, 
done not being so daring.
The glory is glaring
and into my soul 
I'm still staring.

How much writing
 is too much writing? 
Notebook after notebook 
filled with thoughts
documenting my journey 
through "poetry"
a journey in itself.

Funny how, 
before tripping my balls off
I never cared and neglected to
 read or write
 anything really
 and now
 that's all I seem to
spend my time doing.
Only after having 1
 heavy psilocybin experience
on a beach
did I become inspired to 
express these explorations
 through poetic verse.

Words are my world at this point
as well as self expression in general.
So many years 
spent being so quiet, timid, uncomfortable, unsociable, insecure and unsure of what to say to anyone
for so long 
this is how I went on. 
No fun living that way 
although these days 
I'm relatively a loner, 
I feel much more comfortable
 with myself, 
comfortable in my own skin 
more so than I've ever been,
not so caught up in what others
may think of me.

Only psychedelics enabled me to see that by thinking that way
I would never be free. 
They opened my mind 
to the vast connections 
circling the cosmos
reflecting our inner worlds,
into eternity
 I was hurled 
beyond the abyss within 
 the infinite mind 
encapsulating all of mankind 
along with every other being surfing 
on this eternal wave of time. 

Words words words
A world I love honestly.
Puts me in a state of mind 
I never really knew of 
before the psychedelic voyage.