There is a heaviness within me
that never leaves,
no matter what I do,
no matter what I say.

Omnipresent,
like a death sentence:
slow,
cruel.

My thoughts are curses,
blasphemous, dark, vile,
a constant sacrilege
against a power too great
to subjugate.

I'm held in chains,
my humanity a gift
wrapped in a cage.

I try to run,
but it claws at my skin.

Now I'm left
with bones and veins,
dragging myself through the sand
as the clock ticks,
a reminder
that my time will soon end.

My arms flail in despair,
reaching for an anchor
before I vanish
into an abyss
too vast to comprehend.

Yet an echo chants in verses,
a lament of truth
that feels like a burden:

All is fleeting.
Nothing stays.

Love comes in waves.
It drowns you
in euphoric bliss,
where two souls intertwine
for a single kiss.

Then you're alone,
washed up on the shore,
wondering
when it began
and how it came to end.

You bask in the light of happiness,
but darkness always follows,
leaving you cold and hollow.

Only death is certain.
Only you exist.

Others are but mirrors.
Their reflections never change,
a constant dissonance
between who I am
and what I try to escape.

I've been cast out of heaven
to rot in this hell,
among demons and devils
whose desires drip like venom.

Greed in their eyes,
wrath in their hearts,
sweet nothings
masked beneath lust.

Cleanse me of this place.

Burn me:
sevenfold,
tenfold.

Rid me of this plane.

Banish me to silence,
where death does not toll,
to the place where time
exists only as a shadow.

Look at me I'm beautiful
Just don't look at my face
Or my body or personality
Or any of my mistakes

Just Look at me I'm beautiful
But don't look at anything I've done
Anything I despise and hate
Just to earn your love

look LOOK I'm beautiful
Just look at anything which I've dealt
But it's hard to say I'm beautiful
When I can't love myself

She shows her beauty
old lady sees her and laugh
mirage fades in time

They say it's nothing
Just a cold
Bt why do I feel
Like the world
Is sitting on my chest.

I try to rest
Bt the night presses too close
And my back aches
Like it's holding a sorrow
It doesn't understand.

It's just cold
Bt it hurts
In ways I can't explain.

slowly the mountains come out of the blue of morning, they regain their face
light bathes them in its milk
I hide in the tall grass like a child
this self expands into the clouds behind the trees
an engulfing joy dissolves words into vowels
everything that exists  is wonder, a forgotten state of matter
time confesses a circle
the circle conjures  an earth so wild
the forest stores its prayers inside moss
the sacred hidden in the most profane  flower
an work of art with unknown author, every atom is colourful
I offer my skin as playground for butterflies
they can feel she's not so different from the skin of the earth
some hours are born by the self of rain
I wonder if the wind feels me
like I feel you in blooming nails

Colonel Lingus was a cunning linguist,
He would slither, and slobber and dribble,
With his tongue he would stroke, with a push and poke,
and a wiggle about in the middle,
Though the talk of the town, when he had his head down,
Not a word ever could be distinguished.

Colonel Lingus was a gourmet lover,
He would travel the world for its flavours,
But his favourite dish, sort of tasted like fish,
And he’d eat out with quite odd behaviours,
When he tasted sweet slimes, he would quiver with rhymes,
If you met him you’d never recover.

Colonel Lingus had a special interest,
He had mastered a delicate motion,
When he put it within’er, and then gestured ‘come hither’,
It was said he could summon the ocean,
So the ladies spoke highly, although often quite shyly,
But he played himself down like the simplest.