hopetimistic
or pissamesstic?
my moods are usually
graded on a bell curve
and seldom are in the middle, they
tend to gratiate to either
end the  high and low parts
of the slurve
depending on if my Dr.s'
subcription is working or
how hungovers I am.
The one time I graded out
in the middle, it seemed too crowded.

.

That barren branch
high above this desolate space
Crooked shade designs on a dying earth,
bent and twisted of past sunlight’s reach
Naked to the green-less world
Rough hewed collections
of ant trail pathways
and rot of all that was good

Once filled with life, happy on the breeze
Summer fashions of leaf pattern wishes
Vistas of blissful post card greetings
Bearing fruit of friendlier times

Now rests in solitude’s wicked grip
Knotted and splintered bark winding
to a fool's ending in winter’s calling
Cold fingers on gray-cast skylines
dying of desperate missing,
fading into a bleak sunset
Disappearing somewhere beyond the dark,
that barren branch – me

I'm overcome with sadness

It's not the biting sadness
  The choked sobs
that are brought about
by the jolt of a sudden death
or the fresh sting of
a broken relationship

It's not the aching sadness
  The somber introspection
of missed opportunities,
of wasted days
of long lost loves

It's not the oppressive sadness
that depression brings,
wrapping around your head
in suffocating silence
that leaves you numb to the world
that makes you believe that happiness was
only a fairy tale

Rather...

It's the warm sadness
as the tinges of autumn begin to show
and you realize that the summer
was never meant to last forever

It's a familiar sadness as you realize
that everyone changes
and the person you once were
no longer exists, for better or worse

It's the sadness that nostalgia
tows along with fond memories
of summer vacations
of drunken antics
of foolish lust
of fading friendships

The sadness that tells you that
"Things will never be this way again"

But also reminds you that they were never supposed to be

   and that's perfectly alright

What if humans didn't have eyebrows
Would we all just hide out
Or would we spend our nights out,
because monsters should not be seen in daylight
and the moon is always in our favour.
We're werewolves and vampires,
And the blue skies lit by the sun
did not belong to us.

We are monsters after all, and daylight
meant exposing ourselves to ridicule and judgement,
as though we could never find beauty in simple;
it is perfect circled smiles with dimples
that were considered cute, and the larger angles
were obtuse while the smaller are acute.

We label it 'fashion statement'
it is make-up on faces,
constant changing tastes,
just to fit in with the popular.
The masses, the larger groups;
always stuck on "what is the latest scoop"
as though life was one big cone of ice cream.


We've been in and out before
We've been through open doors,
We've built buildings
To create ceilings.
Just to keep monsters
and the less popular,
inside.
Stuck between being buried six feet under
and the ceiling.