To dream
a dream
of hope—
fly away like a bird.
Or to dream
a dream
in empty
nightmarish hell—
where even
the devil
aches?
That’s the
question…

Voice’s broken—
left unheard…
And still,
I think the
unanswered
question…

To dream a
dream to live
and let go,
Or to dream
a dream to die
under my very own
shadows alone?

I hear
her screams
of loneliness
love—
Faint and distant
but caught
in storm.

Venus cries softly,
Like two lovely doves—
Yet her voice
torn between
the dust of
abandon hell
and the
fallen silent stars
dancing across
the midnight skies,
where it shines
her beautiful scars.

I hear
Venus screams—
Her tears drop
like rain,
fear consume
Venus’s mind.
Her storms howl
louder than
Zeus’s thunder—
Yet left unchanged,
unheard.
Her heart,
still fresh—
Yet her soul,
almost left
for dead.

I hear her screams.
Venus burns—
Still, she waits...

Anxiety,
keeps on eating
off of me—
like a disease.

Anxiety,
slicing me with
a sharp knife.
Anxiety,
killing me quietly—

Anxiety,
I feel
The Crooked Man
standing in one corner—
Like Death,
watching me—
waiting…
The ghosts,
haunting me—

Anxiety,
spreading inside
my chest,
stress spilling over—
mind’s a mess.
Anxiety,
killing me
quietly—

Anxiety,
Pulling me in tightly,
wrapping its rope
around my throat—
choking me…
I can’t breath,
I can’t see,
I scream—
Anxiety,
silenced me.

There,
left hung on
The Hanging
Tree…

I can’t eat.
I’ve been falling
deep from not eating.
Heart’s aching,
right hand shaking,
taunted by scattered voices—
Slowly consuming my insides
like a parasite.

I feel too sick,
haunted by the fear
of being forgotten—
Left rotting alone
under the cold,
abandoned
wasteland nights—
Afraid to lose
someone,
like you.
Self hate crawls
around my stomach
and cuts old deeper wounds
like a sharp blade—
Maggots feeding off my scars
filled with shattered memoirs
all over my tired,
puppetted body.

I can’t eat…
I think there’s
something wrong
with me.

Oh my lover,
I’m sorry—
I know you
mean so well,
yet I’m not
a vessel to
your empty
self—

Even when
I still loved you
like poison
from a bottle—
We fall apart
like glass.

Oh my lover—
It’s over.
I’m sorry,
I have to let go.
It was lovely
to know you
from the
same room—
It’s over.

The cold
wind blows,
laughter
echoes loud.
The young
night glows
a circus light
show at my
school.

Blurred faces—
some I
recognized
under their
white smiles,
know what’s
at stake.
They speak
the name to
which I can’t
shake what
aches—

A soul I’m
afraid to lose.
A soul I can’t
speak to
nor reach.

Running like
a rabbit into
the dark
forest library.
Chapters of
painful poems
and shattered
memoirs.

“Tick…”
“Tick…”
“Tick…”

Then a sound
of my alarm
clock—
screaming.

I wake up,
scared and
isolated again,
lying in bed—
breathless.
My real
nightmare—
I never
reach you—
Or maybe…
never see
you anymore.

As I sit
on isolated
grounds of the
library covered
in cobwebs,
I hear a sound—

A sound
of dusted
silence.
My own
words echo.
No shadow
approached—

Nor has
found me—
like a dusty,
forgotten book
filled with
broken memoirs.
Left waiting
in the poetry
aisle—
left unread.