awake in midnights gaze,
wondering, pondering my own mortality
"I don't want to be just a number"
one of billions before me,
a statistic, a cause, a lesson.

Remember me not for my works-
my craft, my skill,
remember me for myself
not for my name cast on stone,
relish my soul, consume my being.

I don't want to be just a number.

All the sky in humanities palm,
the ever expansive heavens.

Yet we choose to stay,
chained to the dirt.

I want to be a romantic.
not a Romantic romantic,
but a romantic that can write romantically.
just a romantic

Since I was young I always knew I was different

labelled as 'special'
a 'difficult' child

misunderstood.
is what I am

But I take pride in being 'special' as they say
its what makes me...
me

being unique is what bring me joy.

escapism from the mundane.

silent and reserved
a learnt behaviour

to speak into a void,
would be more fruitful than another soul.

I hold my breath
anticipating-

waiting to be asked something
anything.

my voice, opinions, feelings
hold no value

all I ask of you is to
                       listen.
listen to me

I have no hunger
I have no ambition
so why am I content?

I have all that I need I think
but others constantly want more
so why am I full while they starve?

are people just greedy?
ungrateful? I ask

No.
ambition is a vehicle
driving us to success

My car crashed a while ago
not a wreck
a crash.

Is it selfish to believe in karma?

to do good and receive good
to do bad and receive bad

is the good out of your heart?
or just so you feel good

what if the bad is accidental?
to face repercussion from a simple mistake

a principle to be explored
or exploited.

It's      always easi
                                er        to
break  a nd                    
                  d       e             st roy
th a n    to            FIX
                     what's broken

I have a thing in my head
bickering and beckoning me to be perfect.

every action and thought and phrase and exertion and sequence-
must be perfect.

is it normal to be to be this imperfect?

When it comes to others
imperfection is okay.

because nobody is perfect
                                              I tell myself

To be self-critical is human
its a tentative nature
                                              I tell myself

a liar is what I am.
a vessel of delusions.

Corrupted, your hurting I can see
all I can do is hurt you, slay you
your tyranny destroyed my land, my home
I will seek my revenge

Your easy, sloppy
I've learnt all your tricks
your down to your knees in under a minute
you reap what you sow

Your hurting I can see
hurting yourself to save yourself from me
piercing your own skin,
your own soul

A hornets spear pierces your mind,
releasing what you were afraid of
what I am afraid of
perfection incarnate

The Radiance.
Dancing in light, serenading the clouds
divine upon divinity
purity absolute.

This is not my home no more,
its Godhome
no place for a knight,
a desolate shell of determination

Nail in hand, I channel my soul
ready to fight your heavenly glow.

3 months on.

Lingering in my mind.
you weaved your web.
bit every itch of my brain
poison flowing, toxins circulating

Even though you left
your web still remains
hard to clear your silky web

                         Im finding myself again
without you

capacity overflowing
limits set in stone
the edge of a plateau
shatter what you know

the day takes 60%
stolen from your core
left wandering alone
plenty left in store

another 40% robbed
purloined beneath your feet
aloft in this world
a sentence sure to be beat

10% remains
to use it wisely, they say
wasted on materials
that will expire one day

0% is all you've got left
but this world stops for no one
even though your dead.

the machine, clank and clutter
create your symphony my beautiful-
bless them with your cry
magnificent screams

the beast of cogs
an amalgamation of works
screech a painful melody
harmony in my sacrifice