Sometimes

Sometimes.
I think about the sea,
tides and currents
pushing me.
Take me deeper
the deeper I breath
a bubble
Ambition
during sleep,
but not
A dream

Fear

All I fear, all I'm afraid of, glimpses of just a faint figure as which is the number that I call to help me end it. Every time I walk in the rain it scares me that I might get struck by lightning. I'm scared I may get sick, I'm scared as the thunder growls and the drizzle turns from a whistle to a loud, mournful cry.

 Every time I meet someone new I'm paranoid with thoughts like, if I look like a fool, like, if I made a good impression, or even, if I scare them. I'm afraid to say anything since what I say may not even matter to them. I'm afraid of the long awkward silences where I can't do anything but twiddle my fingers around the other.
 Every time I eat I find it hard just to take a bite, all i can think about is, if the animal was well taken care of, or if the cook was happy while preparing the food. I'm afraid of possible chemicals  inside everything that I just end up not even eating.
 Every time I speak I'm scared to death that my grammar is incorrect or if all the shatter pieces of glass, my words, form the proper mosaic which I chose for the portrayal of my sentence. I'm afraid to remain silent, unable to get my words across when they may be needed. Afraid that words aren't enough for the expression of myself and all feelings will sound perverse.

 What a curse it is to live in fear of the hearse and the coffin. Fear of death, fear of life, and fear of that in between. Fear of every pain caused by fear creating a stain upon my window. Every cry for joy empty from the fear that it will never last. Every situation a die is cast making me fear the outcome. Misinterpretations, miscommunications, misunderstandings, all the same, making my body and mind stink of fear. The odor consumes me so that I may no longer be able to face my fear, my eyes glazed over by the smoke which contains the smell of a slaughter house, or maybe even a hospital. Where each creature awaits their turn for Death to open the door and in a sweet, yet plastic, smile he says "You're next"

The Pane Stained Window

Staring out the pane stained window. My heart pours itself on the field of grass. I feel the zephyr through the glass as it brushes through the leaves of the tree, standing in the middle, aged to perfection. Every leaf discolored as the autumn air fills the atmosphere. I can tell the day had just begun, but I feel its end coming whilst I reach for the cup filled with nothing. My eyes dilate as I fix my gaze upon the cup that had once been filled with dreams. Unfulfilled ideas of reality, because my mind is the only real thing I see. My heart is the only thing that feels this breeze. The sound of birds chirping pierce the house, yet I know every single crack had been sealed.

Wandering through old images of what my eyes had thought to be there. My hair, my body, my movements. Do they exist? Or am I just trying to cope with all of this and claim it's bliss? Small insects chatter outside, but in here there's nothing. Just a cup filled with nothing, a bed filled with memories, a light filled with words I had once read, a notebook filled with words I had once written, and a self that was once filled with ideas that it was real. My only connection to the world outside, the pane stained window, and beliefs that it's there.

Scratching noises, reminding me of my beliefs, as if they are trying to speak. What are they saying? "You've been inside for way too long, come out and play." A temptation, I feel, must not be acknowledged, a faint glimmer of the dream I created outside my own reality. Cryptic Morse code from the branches, saying all the things I want to hear, but never what I need. I've been in here long enough to know my cries will stay as cries, and that I will not leave, get on my knees and plead for my ideas to just leave me.

Yet I still ask myself these same questions. Why am I here? What am I doing? Where are you? but being stuck and far away is the best way I see fit to my dilemma. Outside there is nothing but mayhem and destruction, hidden away behind these disguises of beauty, hidden away my brief moments of happiness. Was seeing all of it worth it? Yes. Was staying in here any better? Yes. But still I find myself drifting into the deeper parts of sleep, where every moment awake is asleep, and every moment of sleep is a new period of awareness.

Maybe.

Just maybe.

This really is just a dream where I record my thoughts and feelings.

Maybe,

Just maybe,

The pain stained window is the manifestation of said thoughts and feelings.

Narrow eye'd

The lights dim as your vision gets more used to the dark. You find yourself in a different world, similar to your own, but in many ways different. Landscapes, bodies of water, it’s a similar place. The fuzz in your eyes as you try to rub them out, everything just fuzzes more, making the world even darker. Spread your vision, keep your eyesight wide rather than narrow. See it for what it is rather than what’s in front of you. You could be staring into the ocean while the sun rises on your left without you noticing. But as you look to your left you see nothing, just the same hazy darkness. You walk around, to find a feeling familiar. Instead you find your line of sight. The people passing you by as they get closer, but unable to see them until they are inches away from you. Seeing nothing past your arms length you bump into everyone. Your touch creates a psychic connection with them, not necessarily a strong connection, but it still exists.  Your thoughts transferred to one another, your feelings, your souls. You don’t know but you can feel. The small images of different faces, blinking in your sight as if you had hit the end reel of a film.

Slight changes in mood as you see familiar faces, both calming and irritating. Your enemies, children, parents, co-workers, and friends, all the relationships you’ve ever had, all appearing in your line of sight. They aren’t who you think though, just images in a dark room. Exposure to the wrong chemical making your eyes wander among the different colors that appear before you. You struggle to find anything, quite alike to this similar world. A jump into a different rather than parallel reality. Truly a spectacular travel, a journey into a different world.

Big Blue

Floating at sea,
another buoy awaiting pick up.
paint trickling down the body,
Polluting the water

bright red dissipating,
like smoke following
the Gentle breeze.
violently, equally tranquil

yet the foreign object Floats
as the waves
Push & Pull
slowly the buoy
sinks as they overlap
it's existence

In memory

In memory of a once great hero, or he whom  they believed to be. A love strong, diminishing into being but a room mate. Though you may not be dead, you were once a hero to me. Now you're nothing but a cheat, and a fraud. Desperate for attention you take advantage of situations. Lies, Lies, LIES. This is dedicated to the once great hero, that unwilling revealed his fraudulent behavior. To the once great man I had idolized for years of my childhood. You disgust me, every part of your being.

I cherish my time with you, I don't do it out of love, but pity. Looking for easy fucks is all you know how to do. Lying to everyone that deserves to know the truth. Things can be much simpler if you learned how to stop. But you obviously can't since you're just the spider in the corner of the room. Waiting to be squashed. Will easily be squashed. And in the end will be squashed. A fake, an impure,corrupt shell that had been created to emanate the earth's beauty. A dark worker, a vampire of emotions, you  feed off the prana of  the world, yet you choose to eat.

Don't think I don't love you, just don't think I'll be there for you any longer.

BeddyBye

Holding a gift in a pouch, she hands me hers, I hand her mine.She takes it and smiles, as do I. She pulls the string and all the pieces start to fly. I look at her with my puzzled stare. She tells me they flew everywhere. So look at my gift, as she hid it in her locket. Something beautiful, out of something broken. Written on the pouch in my hand. "A piece to the puzzle I'll give you, only a piece."

I look inside, "A piece to the puzzle I'll give you, only a piece.", a piece to the puzzle that's all there was. I look at the pieces scattered on  the ground. Pick them up one by one and put them in the pouch. "I have all the pieces!" I scream happily. She frowns and sees a hole in the pouch. A deep solemn frown, crystals forming on her cheeks. A lacking stare. "All the pieces? Where?" The pouch almost empty, one piece remained.

I leave hold the pouch and my face starts to tighten. All the pieces but one has fallen. Retrace my steps and find the missing parts, I start to walk back to the beginning.Pick up all the pieces, I did. Put them in my pocket. When I took them out, I put them back in the pouch and held it tight.

"All the pieces, I have found them." She looked at me with joyful eyes, yet a straight face. "All the pieces? Where?" I open the pouch and can't  help but laugh, the piece I was looking at was only just the last. All pieces of the puzzle were different. Only that one piece she had given me was important.

I pointed to her locket and grinned "All the pieces are over there.". In her locket held everything for safe keeping. She giggled and opened up her locket. A puzzle I had been trying to solve I shared with her. She had the piece that was never there. Not lacking, but with it the puzzle glowed. This puzzle was a problem I should have shared. It was a puzzle that connects us all to one breath of air.

A piece to the puzzle, only a piece.

Welcome

No ride home, a man looks for change. Three phrases enter his mind, “Forget the body. Clear the mind. Enter the soul”. “Welcome to Limbo” he says with the thought barely grazing the bottom of his skull. Reminded of past adventures he had once embarked on, he closes his eyes and returns to bliss.

Welcome to Limbo. Welcome home. Colors, blown in the wind, air thinner than a sheet of acid.
Welcome to Limbo. Welcome home! He screams in anger rather than satisfaction.

Where can a world like this exist when eyes are open?

Where can a world like this exist when eyes are closed?

A walk towards the road of  dreams, none shall find him in this world, not even his own master. Words, from every single corner of the universe, being shouted at the top of his lungs. Breathe, breathe, there’s nothing else to do but breathe. Each inhale bringing him deeper and deeper into his soul. Don’t pick the flower of which doesn’t bear fruit. Don’t eat the apple given to you. Each heart intertwined through veins invisible to closed eyes. He looks towards the sun, but doesn’t become blind.

He once again opens his eyes.

Welcome back.

Welcome to Limbo.

Welcome home

A Daffodil

Eyes, pure as the color of a Daffodil
A slight burn smell with every breath,
a steadier pump with every beat
Every process slowing
no mind of common thinking
But like a daffodil
a gust of wind and it
Blows way

Insolvable

Like breathing through a paper straw, I’m suffocating, lies and deceit. These things constantly choking me as if I had no air to breathe. The straw slowly dampening as the pressure closes in on me. I despise the actions of those that hide the truth from me. It hurts to find out from someone outside of those concerned. I take a deep breath as I submerge myself in the blue liquid. It’s the last inhale I can take before I can come back up.

Tears underwater, as pointless as a smile in a school. Just letting my lungs fill with the liquid lies and smoky deceit. There’s no more space to move and I have therefore become claustrophobic.

Dead clue of a puzzle, solvable by a child but when given to an adult the roles would be reversed. One clue leading to another, but the other never existed.

Have you ever? A question with many answers, a story to be told at the end of each for confirmation. Explain

Do You See What I See?

I walk around the village at night to see the breeze brushing the hearts at the top of each vein. Gently pushing them to sway them side to side. A heart falls from a vein into my lap, a shallow bite I take the life away slowly. I browse through my collection of seeds, hard and unbreakable, my friends throw them around. Creating games where one were to hit the other, or to allow two small seeds to rest upon a crevice where they battle. I stare into the limit, wondering when it would be my time to escape the chains. These chains that keep me on this earth. You see it as corruption,, I see it as ____ it'll never stay the same.