A breeze, a sea of pain,
wave after wave,
wave after wave.
They end, crashing on the familiar shore.
I've been here once before.
Salt thickens the air, the sun yields to the deep,
a crimson eye awakens in the sky,
A breeze, a sea of pain,
I begin to cry.
Wave after wave,
Time flies,
Time wanes.
Why am I here once again?
Why is suffering habitual?
Whimper I tuck into my shell,
Emphatically I cry.
I cry to wake myself from this rest,
The sound of the waves rolling,
The smell of the ocean call,
The grains of sand underneath my sole,
The day surrendering to the explosion of color.
I begin to cry cause I am merely a visitor
On this shore we call love.
I am merely a visitor, in a world that seems so far.
Apr 27
Apr 27, 2026 at 10:25 PM UTC
Days, days and days
pass, something I can’t control.
no matter how far I reach
now hard I pull
my grasp can’t last
my quilt fingers disarray
detangle. Days become a week, I welcome
weakness.
I remember when I got my Piggy.
he was not a football and
I was too afraid to show I care.
I aM tOo olD fOr a StuFfeD aNiMAl
I bellowed to the corridors of darkness I dare not to tread on.
in those corridors I admit I love my Piggy, but not more than my ego.
Weeks. Weeks. Months.
Shadows appear in their worst form purposely; pure.
Shadows are a reminder there’s things I try to hide
things I try attempt to forget,
things I cannot address.
Months, to a year. I can say I miss my youth, but that would admit I was wrong, and thus I cannot look back.
Years. Where has the time gone. Where has my joy gone. A smile fades into the shade. I hate to keep you waiting. I hate to keep you waiting for when I can look back at moments elapsed and not feel disgust , not be afraid to care, but that would mean I would have to do more than shout into the corridors of darkness that surround my mind, and thus the life I want to express hides, in the surrounding shadows I suppress.
Apr 5
Apr 5, 2026 at 1:39 PM UTC
I try swimming in the deep end
Y
Am I kidding
When I can barely crawl?
Aim high to feel low
Shoot for the stars; I'm somewhat moronic
hypochondriac psychotic asthmatic
Can you tell by the scars I've drawn on
And my masochistic vehicle?
Got a list of what I'm tryna do
Tryna reach my goals;
An exaggeration of my fragmented mind
onethingtwothingthreebacktoonethingbecauseIcantforgetonething
My perilous thoughts.
No concentration makes for just conversation
In that I lose myself
Mar 1
Mar 1, 2026 at 2:11 PM UTC
There lies a portrait of you I drew in my nightstand. It wasn't meant to live as so.
It was meant to be a birthday gift,
Something cheap
Something new.
It was meant to be an image
Of what I see when I look at you.
Eyes wide with curiosity,
Hair tied back,
A smile of cotton
Plush with warmth,
A smile of cotton
Plush with warmth.
It was meant to be an honest gesture;
A gift to hang on the wall in your room when you're all alone with your weeping walls,
A memory of simpler times when nothing mattered when we were together.
And so, I snapped a pic so I could draw.
I snapped a pic to attempt something I've never done before.
I snapped a pic,
A pic I still see when I have nowhere to roam.
It was meant to be something.
I'm not quite sure how,
Though I'm aware of what the thought has led to:
Where I am
Where I stand
Feeling the same.
After all the prolific indecision
Demoralizing inaction, this unfinish gift this shadow of a gesture. It was meant to be something,
Though if the picture will ever find frame
And tell a story outside the prison in which we partake
I don't know,
I'm not sure if I can say.
Jan 27
Jan 27, 2026 at 10:02 PM UTC
In the slew of this trance
Railing across the nights
In shining armor of horror,
Light, something comical, guides me.
I forgot how to write.
I have no purpose.
a separation of tied limbs by
Wiley Scientist’s
Churning, clenching, wincing
Smile
Burn into my lobe.
Submission to anxiety.
Liberate my shackled mind
From the screeches of Armageddon,
Residing in the Nine Rings of rajas,
The most fruit bearing peninsula of
Illusions.
Tearing through the center of
My pinwheel of paralyzing
Hypnosis,
Something reached beyond depths for me.
It, somewhat, portrayed itself,
As Light.
Nov 4, 2023
Nov 4, 2023 at 10:31 PM UTC
Aircraft blazin' fuel
Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
A calm midnight rain,
The mind racing. Why
Must the nurtured be blind eye
Wilie McTell? Pain.
The mind racing, on
A smile,
Lonesome star in opaque
Darkness, Freedom
From label. Freedom
From responsibility.
Freedom from action,
Is this noble,
Or a jester's play in chess?
Oh, must I turn my fist to face aloft,
Straighten my clenched fingers, present you
Burning embers of admiration, that for so long
Have been stitched into my palm,
Gifted from a passive voyager afar,
Weary, to announce affection,
For a grasp can only
Last as long as
Two hands want to clasp.
What is on your mind?
Aircraft blazin' fuel
Aboon, "done-with's" grave floods sight,
A calm midnight rain.
A chance to breathe.
Be my Sheppard.
Lead
Me to pastures of serenity
To graze in, until my eternal slumber.
That's where I want to be.
Sep 20, 2023
Sep 20, 2023 at 12:22 AM UTC
In the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights that guide
My syllables along,
Silence has never felt so
Concrete.
Silence, on questions I have asked my
Conscious for repetition, and
To hunt for answers
To unwritten dialogue,
And as I contemplate this concept,
The beauty of ringing church bells
Bleeds and creeps
Through my window,
Slicing through the distorted
Avenues and Sulcis of silence
In my mind,
To remind me
Of where I am.
Lying in the back of my car,
Keys in the transmission,
Waiting,
Hoping,
For a new path to explore
In this eclectic figure 8 of
Communication and relationship. I never
Try to make sense of it all,
Until
A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles
My liberating-attempting mind,
A faint whisper, harmonizing with the
Church bells,
Soothingly-caresses my ears,
A faint whisper,
Carrying,
The words.
I’ve.
longed.
To.
hear.
“Come with me this way.”
Hallucination of grace.
An overflowing melting ***
Of desire.
Stillness. Gracious like
A still river. Cercadas sing,
Rocks in awe don’t move.
Until the moment of that faint whisper,
I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence,
Waiting,
For the Princess’ voices,
While the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights
Guide my syllables along.
Aug 24, 2023
Aug 24, 2023 at 12:14 AM UTC
Staring off, into a hallucinogenic scar
Of a. Man that used to frolic,
I notice their eyes dwelling in its luggage,
Seeking diamonds of speculation though
Some might think of this as attention.
It burns in its atoms,
Hoping to observe shock.
Perhaps, a catastrophe.
Perhaps, an awakening,
It’s up to the magical world of the mind
To procreate perspective on that
Cacophony of benevolence, as
A mother does when presented their child,
By means, of surgical hands,
Concurring it’s value,
Like a beauty salon,
Signaling its importance
By rendering eyes to acknowledge its
Constant self transforming,
While dollar signs kindle their way through the Amazon to confrontation,
A song The Spectacle knows oh so well
While society dissects in its cultural forms,
Like Yahweh,
And “you don’t know what you say”
Or essence of Christianity,
And Tathāgata.
Brain dead poet,
Lost in the slums of
Originality and inspiration,
A hue of blue,
What else is new?
The changing of the guards.
Jun 28, 2023
Jun 28, 2023 at 9:14 PM UTC
In the shade of
Capitalist reality
We are shackled in
Societal tendencies.
Seen as a whole
Individuality is drowned in auditory
Hallucinations
Procreating sensation
In riddle.
Whatever happens on Earth
Stays on Earth
Past living tracks
With ideas
Indefinitely
Dispersed
Past evolution of
RNA transcribed to
DNA double entendre,
We maintain
A recreational frame that of
The beautifully rough,
Raucous-sharpening strokes,
Of Mr. Max Beckmann.
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 5:41 PM UTC
Heaven sent in a forest hue shining from
Mesmerized playful thought,
The crimes of love are back in my mind,
Directing my consciousness
Like the **** ******* I am.
I find myself hindered in a rotting caucus like a maggot.
*********
Once again seduced by chemical reactions and the love of affair,
I find myself crumpled by the air of conquest
And love.
The thing is,
I never say what I want.
I tend to hide behind trends of
Illusion-ic syllables
Metamorphosing syllables
Portraying a fantasy so the reader doesn't suspect the victim,
But why's that?
Why can't I be living in a sunlit den of honesty?
WHY DO I LIE TO MYSELF?
I cannot answer with a statement,
Rather, an observation on the individual's reality.
I live in a world smothered in doubt.
Doubt in my skeelfulness.
Doubt in my appearance.
Doubt in the own gait mi shoes nest in.
I live in a world smothered in doubt.
Doubt in the recollection of my memory.
Doubt in my genuineness.
Doubt in every flailing limb moved by the wonky neural synapses.
Doubt in what these synapses create.
Doubt that I am humble.
Doubt that I am of value to a person.
Doubt of reaching Rogerian congruency
Doubt that I will never be the person I want to become.
And this doubt lowers my fedora and clips me into
SIlence,
The opportunities pass with the fragments of time I remember
When I am not intoxicated somewhere I am not supposed to be.
OH, how I wish I could grab you by the arms
And twirl you around in the midst of this of this morning dew fog
Of doubt we reside in for not speaking up.
OH, how I wish to swing your arms to a rebellious melody of the
Norm, and laugh at this norm together.
OH, how I wish to kiss you on the cheek and safely escort you
To your abode where we cackle at feline tendencies and
Chinwag nonsense of
Which sauce is best with gnocchi,
Which toppings you prefer on a taco,
Which swimming stroke a fish would use to saunter to Atlantis,
And if you were to be with me,
How would that make you feel?
Yet, here I am again,
Reverting to the same **** syllabic texture of a Barolo.
I am a fool living in a stubborn illusion.
I wish Mother Universe would burn my face instead of meandering
In means of seduction and silence, but it's an example of my impatient pride.
At the end of the waxing moon
I live in a world of smothering doubt
With voices tickling mi cochlea per saying
I might not be best at anything,
Nor do I say correct phrasing,
But the one thing i won't let my subconscious trick me into hallucinating
Is the confidence to amplify the manner I would care for you and
Wish to see you blossom beyond my comprehension of vocabulary.
I hope this image of convoluted pictures in a kaleidoscope
Remain steady keel,
These are my thoughts,
And you are on my mind.
I don't believe I have the necessary ability to be more transparent than these words written on canvas for a sector of society to notice,
And so the ball remains lassoed in your court,
Pleading to be shot.
Maybe one day you'll release it to explore a world against societal norm,
Because why live by the norm anyways ya know?
In this world of smothering doubt,
I can't showcase what will lay in the future,
I can't express what our paths intertwined would resemble,
But I can portray my confidence in my feelings for you,
A gasp a light to grasp at
In my world of smothering doubt.
SO I'll keep my fedora low,
Hoping, for the ball to stumble into my court,
Over yonder, by the strawberry penny lane
In our intertwined minds
Jun 4, 2023
Jun 4, 2023 at 4:07 AM UTC