A niche of ties
that's built to bind
the decent times
for those lost
unafraid of the cost
of venturing in my mind.

I thank Andrew, so this next bit
will exhibit a bit of him.
I found help when lights were dim
in the form of a kind man
who taught me to withstand
any treatment as unworthy,
the faded hurting
is a recognition of him.

I thank Summer, so this next bit
will exhibit a bit of her.
I found advice after advice of help,
things I could never tell myself;
I found it in the form of her kind words.

I thank timing, that let me find them both
otherwise I'd be unable to let go
and I'd still be hurting unable to change it
So I thank both of them.

It is a clear cold morning in Winter;
I woke with a cold's cough
the sky grows a shade dimmer
from blue skies to grey skies
and my fingers blister.

It is morning yet I feel hopeless
I wake with the day on my mind
in hopes that someone will notice
that today, I was someone,
I look for a way not to feel broken.

It sounds a little too desperate
to text "hey its my b-day"
so I make them guess it
"do you know what today is?"
but my spirits only lessen.

I roll back to bed till afternoon,
I cut the cake with wishes in mind,
I leave a slice like a crescent moon
in case someone suddenly notices
but I finish off that moon.

I cut the cake by myself
with candle-lit wishes
blowing each one by itself
I blow the last with a wish
that ends with the word "help?"

I message "sorry if I bothered you"
with hopes that the response is
"no you didn't" because the truth
is that I am always lonely
so a conversation rubs away the bruise.

I hang on every word I hear
hoping to feel closer to people
but my database of almost non-existent peers
don't make much for conversation
so I pretend I don't shed tears.

Night arrives, the day is at an end
it wasn't as pictured in my mind
nor was I surrounded by friends
but I watched a day of passing lights
and know that it's finally tomorrow again.

The one day I'm supposed to matter is over,
for the last twenty one years it's been the same,
and I hold a torch in my heart for the closure;
but every year I am alone in a dark room
slicing at a cake that was too big for myself
with wishes that asks questions all to well
like "can I have someone who cares about me,
please? Can you help?" but I don't think-
Santa does birthday wishes, nor do falling stars,
and I think God only answers the big questions
so I am left guessing as to who I just sent
my silent candle-lit wishes to.

It all just started with a walk in the woods,
A talk on the woods blossomed like fire,
And they shalt not tire of their speeches,
Because leeches like those will never alone.

The words tasted the moisture on lips
a hidden kiss behind tall fern trees
And the bees will buzz as they ought to do
because the overdue sting is awaiting.

They sit on a log as the stream flows by,
A deer looks up, pauses, then flies away on a blanket of leaves

I wandered here myself and shalt I perish
I'd cherish the time my deer has given to me,
For to house a sea of hearts in a foliage of leaves
means less to thee and more to me.

I lay down my sword and pick up my pen,
I put down the chains and lift up my spirit,
I dance while the whole world crumbles,
As it crumbles around me.

I tumble on along the currents of wind-
passing me, a moment in an eternity,
I still turn to me for advice through the looking glass,
and passing me is a moment in an eternity.

There is a moment where I stop, the world slowly spins as I fall to the floor,
I see a flower blooming in the garden,
The woods that opened my eyes to the world beyond,
Getting smaller
Smaller

Follow like the mist of the morning
I'm yawning but my eyes are wide,
the dew on the leaves seem boring,
I cried but not from a place of sorrow
I follow the luminous orb to a place:
a place so far away from grace.

The cliffs are divided by gravel
I'll travel the rest of the ways tomorrow,
for the light prods a horse with a saddle
I watched the birds fly over my way.
I hear the chirps barricaded by trees
I'll see to it that I'll sail the seas.

The song echoes, I hear nothing but breathing,
the colours taste bland and there I was reaching-
for one glorious moment where it all made sense.
I commend those who travelled these cliffs
that were eclipsed by the deadliest woods.

I smell something sinister yet reminds me of me,
I smell something like the smell of flesh on water,
I smell nothing. I fear, I smell nothing.

I see one last projection of the illuminating orb,
as it transforms into a night sky of stars,
I'm afar from them, but I can feel them touch me.
The warmth I reminisce on, reappears,
I fear I can taste colours and smell roses,
I fear I can hear the birds beyond the trees,
I hear them just fine, and I hear more than that;
I hear my heartbeats, I've beaten the cliffs
eclipsed by dangerous woods.

Sometimes it becomes so hard to write, my mind
                  j       U m    ps  all over the place. My heart
keeps beating and beating on, but the thunderous roar
has d
            r
                o
                    p
                        p
                            e
                                 d    and I'm not sure whether it will come back.
I can't combat these scribbled thoughts and devilish eyes any longer,
my mind has become a JuMBled M   E S S.

I can't finish the sen..... sometimes
and it gets too hard to breathe, like the air inside my lungs

have just disappeared.

I can't sleep, and the sheep I'm counting are taunting me.
The darkened rings around my eyes shy away from light,
because I am done.

I am done.
I am slowly decaying.
I am slowly slowly decaying
I am...slo.... dec..ing.

And I just want it all to **STOP!