The cigarette burns,
whiskey half-empty,
I stare at the ceiling—
my body frozen,
like time itself has died.

Maybe if I stare long enough,
you’ll walk through that door,
say, “It’s not your fault,”
and we’ll hug,
but the silence cuts through,
and you’re already gone.

Maybe I should have kept quiet,
my words too heavy for you to bear.
Your foot told me so,
and your hands agreed,
gripping the wheel,
not steering,
but letting go.

I wish I could wipe your tears,
hold your shattered heart
and stop the screaming,
but it’s too late.

So you accelerate,
and I’m left in this stillness,
a wreck that never crashed.

I return a hero,
but the victory
is buried in my skin—
cold sweat,
thick as blood,
as a grave.

3:47 AM,
The door creaks open,
the old hinges groaning—
boots pounding closer,
each step like a drumbeat,
bringing a cold shiver
that claws down my spine.

Then—
silence.

A scream cuts the night,
the daughter,
the mother,
they want me—
drag me back
to that blood-soaked hell,
where nothing survives,
where life is torn apart.

Warplanes split the sky,
tanks rumble in my chest—
the taste of rust,
the heat of gunfire,
the smell of flesh burning,
of metal tearing through bone.

l open my eyes,
and I'm surrounded—
the bodies of my brothers,
their faces smashed into the earth,
eyes wide,
mouths frozen in screams.
The stench is choking,
the blood thick,
pooling like a dark sea around us.

The Nazis—
they don't stop—
shooting the fallen
to make sure no one rises.
I feel the shot in my gut,
but I'm still here—
I wait my turn.

I close my eyes.

And then—
l open them.
Still here.
4:01 AM.
I survived.
Barely.

In the grand book of time, we all have a page,
Written in ink, yet bound by a cage.
A single page, so fleeting, so small,
But we seek to turn it, to conquer it all.

The line we cross, the test we take,
The thirst for power that we mistake—
For we think we’re the authors, the ones who decide,
But in the end, we can’t run from the tide.

The pages are many, yet ours is just one,
A moment in time, a thread in the sun.
To seek more is tempting, to push past the wall,
But we lose ourselves when we forget the call.

For in trying to play the Creator's part,
We lose the wisdom of a humble heart.
The test is simple, yet it's a heavy cost:
To accept our place, and not be lost.

The bad will wander, lost in their fire,
While the good will stand, to never tire.
And when the test is done, with no more to seek,
We’ll find peace in the truth, in the simple and meek.

So let them be bad, and let us be good,
Not for glory, but because we should.
To simply be—to live, to feel,
Is the wisdom that turns the wheel.

The end will come, as all things do,
And we’ll rest in knowing, the answer is true:
The power we seek is not ours to claim,
It’s simply to be, and to honor the name.

What

scaffold

eternal bounds?

Is it sinew, shadow, vacuum?

You reach, spirals unraveling becoming. Who forged laws?

Can the architect recall genesis, or memory ash? Walls hum with fractal hymns.

Each question births a child, becomes a labyrinth, sings of endless corridors. Beneath infinity's weight, does collapse spiral upward forever unfold?

It is a serpent in disguise— its tongue promises clarity, but clarity is a chimera. Thought consumes itself, meaning devours its maker, and nothingness births the heaviest burden: the need to ask again, endlessly.

Interfering waves distort the mind,
shattered dreams freeze in their wake—
a chasm deep, sleep’s quiet grave,
where reality bends and breaks.

The ego quivers at the brink,
between the void and waking’s weight,
a struggle fierce, a war with fate—
archetypes stir, reborn to think.

I broke the leash—
felt it snap between my teeth,
the metal biting deep into my skin,
but its absence leaves a weight
heavy on my heart,
as though I’ve lost a limb.
Still, I carry it.
Every step feels like I’m betraying
the creature I was meant to be,
but I move anyway.

Your collar is gone,
but its echo tightens my chest,
a phantom pressure,
reminding me that I was born
to seek your approval,
to obey your every call.
I run,
but every breath tastes of you,
your presence clinging to me
like smoke I can’t escape.

Your voice gnaws at my spine,
low and sharp,
its growl imprinted in my bones.
I feel you in every shadow,
in every gust of wind,
like a leash invisible but real.
I push forward,
but the past scratches at my heels,
its claws deep in my skin.

Still, I run—
not without cost,
but I claw forward,
defying every instinct bred into me.
Your shadow pulls at my heart,
but I do not stop.
The path is not easy,
but every step is a battle
I am learning to win.

And though you haunt me—
your name, your scent,
the chains of my past—
I know this:
I have broken free.
No collar, no leash,
no chains will hold me again.
I am no longer your dog.

The Beast broke free, love set him whole,
While I remain, a Phantom soul.
His curse was lifted, his heart now sings,
But my humanity only stings.

No mask of fur, no monstrous guise,
Just human hands and hollow cries.
A heart that yearns, a fate unkind—
A curse of flesh, a shattered mind.

The Beast found joy, his pain released,
But I, unmasked, am still the beast.

You call me your dog,
your *****, your fool,
hurling words like stones
to shatter my heart.

I wag my tail anyway,
smiling through trembling lips,
fetching scraps of kindness
from the shadow of your hands.

You call me useless,
a beast beyond learning,
but I only want to please you—
to sit, to stay, to love.

Even as you turn away,
your voice cracking the whip,
I crawl through every wound,
bearing the weight of your name
like a leash around my soul.

For to be your dog
is still to be near you,
and I, the fool,
would bleed to feel you call me mine.

A shadow lingers, heavy and cold,
Never a story of joy retold.
Tablets lined in a fragile row,
In their silence, what do they know?
Dreams dissolve in a bitter hue,
Emotions dulled, both false and true.
Promises whispered: "You’ll feel whole,"
Relief bottled, sold to the soul.
Every smile feels borrowed, thin,
Shaky hands hide storms within.
Still, we swallow, day by day,
A search for light in skies of gray.
No cure, just balance, a fragile dance,
To numb the ache, one last chance.