I’ve got plenty hyper-fixations
Cliffhangers I like drag on in my mind
There mainly of small shows or fandoms that weasel there way into my mind
I lose myself in small details or characters
They seem to envelop me whole
Mind and all
Soon it’ll be the only thought consumes my mind
I fall asleep imagining scenarios that aren’t yet to come or might never.
Soon theses fixations became of you
Your face
The way you look at me with disgust
Your eyes
Filled with deceit
Your mouth
Spouting plentiful lies
It all fills my waking hours
Filled with anxiety that I’m just not doing something right
It’s my worse hyper-fixation
That I’m saying something wrong
That I’m speaking in the wrong tone
That I
that even with all my efforts
Am lacking.
So I’ll imagine a different way to react tomorrow,
and I’ll stay up late tonight wondering
If that one look you gave me
Meant that I didn’t do something quite right again.

I’ve never been a patient person
The world moves fast for me
I’m not willing to just wait
Time will be wasted if I stand in place
So I struggle it keeps good pace
But even as I struggle to catch my breath
I’m not willing to wait

Fate is a friend that I hold dear..
They hold my hand
guiding me as I take my first steps
Much like a parent
But fate takes hold
And they let go as my body grows cold

A field of flower is precious
So precious though it is fragile.
Fragile like the human soul,
It doesn’t take much to make a flower wilt
Even in a garden.


Other flowers lavishly grown around
And yet one or two— despite
Everything wilt as the others soak up the plentiful Water.


With the failure to tend to thy, once precious flowers now are wilted, slowly crumbling though still unnoticed till to late. Crumpled on the ground in sorrow and despair, beauty rose and now fell, only now had been noticed and nothing could tend to those wilted petals

Freckled boy
Fearless and full of wonder of the world
Doomed to be killed like a cat that had to much curiosity


Pitty the Fire haired girl
Many faces but buried underneath products
To young to knows the shattered mirror on your floor felt the weight of your beauty if only for a moment



Poor blue eyed boy
Stepped on every crack, playin hopscotch on the side walk near by the dock while the doctors broke the news his mother wouldn’t ever hop again

I am not me
We are not us
My body is but a skin cage

I am a blob of flesh and muscle
Oddly formed and named
A person called—?


Meant only to think and control
We dress ourselves up as doll
The fleshy bone and muscles covered in a layer of identity
I am still a mere entity

We are not anything
I am not more than ideals and assumptions
My ribs are cage
My mind is made by design
I am not me

And god forbid we are someone or something

I am a idea
I am my cage
I am no one
We are not us

Pick picket my soul
Take what was found
There’s nothing quite profound
Nothing of gold
Nothing of silver
Nothing but a trail of leaves
But not even a breeze
For thieves themselves are the wind
I could only hear the crunch of leaves
so pickpocket me, my dear thief