We are the rocks buried in mud,
God is the farmer turning us up
as he plants his crops for the summer.
All is random, spontaneous and unbiased,
fate can coincidentally be predictable.

~Headache?~

I have a headache,
but it doesn't seem like a normal one.
It feels like thousands of voltages of electricity
passing through,
destroying everything inside.
Except for my ability to think,
to write,
to see,/
and to feel.
Is this what hell is?
Is this my death?
The constant beeping of the furnace
is it real or not?
My mind keeps the sound beeping continuously,
and now I never know if it's real
or my insanity peeping out the window.
My mind is hurting so bad,
like a war is waging on inside,
every thought thought is killing
my brain.
But
I think I'll just vomit
for now.

~I'm sleepy~

When your lungs are burning from
your arguments and rivers of tears going down your
face are slowly building up into solids that
look like dry vertical lines which
are mistaken for wrinkles,
You think 'damn I need to talk to someone.
Anyone.'
Maybe even a cigarette.'
But that isn't good for you.
People cannot handle it.
Then you get your shit together
and think.
Why the hell were we fighting?
Only you don't ask out loud,
it just sizzles and burns into
your skin
slowly.
Just like all the words, the fucks
the shits, the assholes being thrown around.
The disappointments spewing like hot lava from your erupting lips
that are going faster than a sewing machine
and then you break-
down.
With sighs of gasping breathes and
tears.
No one comes out victorious in arguments,
those are battles that should never be fought.
They always say no one is on a winning side in war.
Only our wars feel much more personal.
It's never about winning or losing now.
We come out of it barely breathing or thinking straight and
leave with some wounds that will definitely turn into scars.
Apologies can only go so far and even if the point has been
received it's too late to erase all the destruction that has been caused.
No one wins in wars,
no one wins in arguments.
Not that anyone cares anymore.

~Not Pleasing To Hear~

You cannot please everyone,
unless you're willing to go down
on them.

~Red~

It's funny how the nail polish I spilled
onto my bed sheets
is the same colour as my lipstick.
The red stain exists in many lives;
between legs,
on lips,
on nails,
in bodies
in and out of hearts.
Life is black, white and red, but
Only if you want it to be.

~Morning Traffic~

My mind is traffic
based on people's curiosity
to stare at accidents.
Reality is on the side
of the road like roadkill.
Soon my mind will
end up that way.
Signs of warning
telling me what's up ahead,
but I still don't know,
the signs are too
far away.
Even if I did know
I'd still be
lost.

~Pondering The Forgots~

Sometimes when I hear your name,
I wonder if you miss me.
Miss the times of the person I thought
I used to be.
Just a clear void walking straight lines
but fun nonetheless.
I became good at that,
before you came you should've witnessed the mess.
It was starting to happen again,
you left before you could help me stop it.
I tried to get you,
but you told me it was too much, fuck it.
You never said it with your lips,
but your lack of presence was
yelling.
Louder than the storm's raging
thunder,
lightening hit,
it's all I felt then.
Now I don't even do the things,
that I did before.
It's okay now they're only reminders,
things I've let falling to the floor.
I wonder if hearing my name manifests
into thoughts,
like when I hear yours
I ponder about the forgots.

~Oh, Fuck Off Already~

Forgive me I cannot remember your name,
my memory perishes faster than the nails
on my fingers.
You do look familiar, did we meet in school?
You treat me as if we shared happiness
many times before,
however I feel misery was often shared more.
Disagreeing out of politeness and quick to point
the gun,
I have a feeling this is why I made myself forget
you
and your denial-like fun.

~I prefer my own company~

It's heavier than a bag full of bricks,
but I don't know why you'd carry that around,
that ain't common sense.
I carry it around,
I threw my sense in the bag too.
I won't push you away,
but I won't let you take another step.
I don't throw out any threats,
if I did they wouldn't be empty.
I know I told you to come over,
but I don't want you any closer.
If I did it would ruin me,
if I didn't it would ruin you.
Bare with the confusion,
I'll set you straight
far the fuck away from me.
I was only trying to be polite.
You ain't my friend,
No.
You ain't even my lover.

~My Future~

I'm choosing to stay down,
down to the earth
In the soil where I shall
become soil.
I'll spend my days
trying to form into
rock,
and never succeeding.
It's easy to fall apart
and it's hard to
become
whole.
Whole is where the heart is,
Hole is where the heart is.

~It's Fucking Complicated~
Does the past forgive the present,
to make it easier to forget?
In time the present becomes the past,
and we no longer cannot forget.

~111~

I can never sleep the night before something,
but tomorrow is just like any other day.
My hair curled up between my pillow and neck,
window blinds open, eyes closed.
Comfort is there in the smell of home,
tomorrow is just like any other day,
yet I cannot sleep.
The moon checks in to see if I am really asleep,
he finds peace within our dreaming minds
as we find peace within his glowing surface.
I pretend I am so he will pass on and gaze into the sky
quietly and peeks in on someone else.
Slowly my lids grow heavier than guilt,
just like any other day, tomorrow is almost
here
And
Now I am fast asleep.

~Nonsense at 1am~

All the words I see keep shifting;
becoming blurred,
like the truth once told
that are lies.
Nothing is one entity,
there are many sides to it's shape.
Echoing in minds are instincts,
not words, not sounds.
Thoughts becoming clustered,
multiplying faster than cells.
My prison holds my happiness,
here are the keys for
the lock.

~Death~

The worst feeling you experience is not Death.
It is Death's invitation into your home;
sitting at the dinner table amongst your family,
observing the love being passed from plate to plate,
saying a prayer that only God could hear, but he can't.
His invitation will leave you with an impression that
will not last for days, but for weeks and even years.
He tells us we are in the rain, we are in the soil,
we grow into trees and breathe life into the world.
Then he leaves.
It is knowing who Death is,
that scares us the most.
We know of Death's capabilities,
but we do not know when he will be capable.
The worst feeling is Death inviting someone you love
to Death's home and never returning.
We know who took them, we know where they are
but we cannot get them,
they are gone forever.