Fishing for impudence
looking outside,
all seem so murky
with a dying light,
all seem so monochrome,
with a condescending benight.
Now I am looking closely
and all that I found,
was a hatred very symmetric,
to which I am bound.
Just like the voids
I see in myself,
maybe my lens is too murky,
or my windows blacked out,
but life is miserable
and I see it around.

I often try to deny,
and live like everything’s fine,
but some feelings never settle,
some actions don’t suffice.
I look for answers around
I look for meanings behind,
maybe it’s a different me,
or maybe it’s the defeated mind.
Thoughts never to settle,
when I write sometimes,
but facing your fears,
through the words you write
is more difficult than accepting the light.

I often try to view this,
in a stupidly optimistic hue,
thinking like a flower
proud of its scent and bloom.
Thinking I am unique and
so might be my issues,
but I don’t want to look around
cause inside I know,
I am part of the million others
that bloomed and withered in this garden too.
My problems don’t amount
to the privileges I own,
and pain might be puny
when compared to yours,
but I still get hurt,
even if my problems aren’t new,
I still want to say them,
even when my words are few.

It's all a fallacy, this game we play.
With nothing much to lose,
and oddities to gain.
Dirt drenched kisses linger longer on the lips of shadows.
As the sun chases their nights away,
concocting different tomorrows.
In the passing of life,
we cross over with strife.
Shadows and ghosts dine as friends in hell.
But above the ground,
oh, they keep their separate shells.

Humans live in their shells,
shells of lie, love and lust.
With nothing to give back to one another,
nothing but long lines of agony and despair.