Twice a train has passed after I cross its rails.
Not interesting, right?
Very normal thing
for a train,
to be on rails,
but it's happened twice.
Am I lucky?
Or am I trying to grasp meaning,
where there is none.

A ghast,
I grasp.
A reach,
I stretch,
but cannot attain,
their lost feeling
I hold onto.

I'm dead.

A wet leaf, disregarded
from the highest branch.
Now-
on the damp pavement.

A drop,
I predicted, painfully so.
A fall,
I tried to delay, unfortunately,

I'm dead.

The world will still turn,

regardless

of if I want it to.

A spin on words,

and you might think

I'm a dead branch

fallen from a tree.

The apple tree, my dad will become.

Although not yet,

the words are stagnant

tightening around my soul

carving reality into my face.

A useless thought,

an unbearable one.

I fear I’ll rot

and dance with the maggots

until I’m soil.

One day meeting with my dad

becoming a tree myself

we’ll hold each others roots

like when we hug.

The type of warmth

I’ll always dream about

way past the inevitable

moment in time,

where my heart

and soul

will give out.

There are days where the world makes me draw a blank, where nothing fits and all I do is think all ropes struck split-ended and torn no paths cross no links and certainly no endings. A trail begins and the hill drops down steeply low below my groans and moans of pain and distraught - I'm forced to appeal, to let them go. Jump! Jump! And I draw a blank.

Sometimes nothingness stares back at me; looming over me and my thoughts - overbearingly present consuming my mind until there's nothing left but this stark stinging sound scratching in my ear
I’m forced to itch an itch I can’t reach; unfulfilled and tense I’m annoyed and aggravated, in agony and anguish.

These days, which seem to last weeks, cut deep into the abyss of my memories;

who I was supposed to be. A dull glow of an image I traced in my mind steadily peering over my hollow body haunting all the squeaks and creaks of my joints.

I'm spooked by my naked brain bubbling pointless noise.

I lay lazily through my creepy trance as vines that held me tight debunk from my nerves. Painfully they un-tie my paralysis and I let my lungs pound the roof of my mouth with ghastly chokes of cursed air. Hours of mindless screeching.

I'm free!

My breath eases up
and my soul finally gets to explore
the deep universe I see
when closing my eyes.

A new room,
cold, empty space.
First glance,
uninviting.
I stood rooted.
For a while,
but without thought,
I stepped.

A bright glow through my eyelid
stunned me at the gate,
of my new beginning.
Struck by someone.
She, who never saw me,
who flattered me with her tone.
A woman with the prettiest auburn hair.
Her eyes, a rainforest,
one brown, another a startling green.

I would give her everything.
Happiness, a better life,
a perfect life,
but its beyond my reach to gift.

Her;

a poem, awestruck,
an abstract painting, worth the stars,
a love story, rose and bold.

She;

a flower, blessed with immortality.

She'd be my reason for life.
She's a spell everyone wants,
a warm feeling everyone needs.

All I want is her,
she's too distant to attain.

All I need now
is a world to grow
around my heart
until I grasp my freedom,
like fresh air
on a walk.

Threads mold my throat.
Crumpled paper lay within wrinkles
of time,
mountains of ideas strike the clock

I've run out of lines,
and gasp without air
a faint squeal
as my head bobbles off.

                   S
                                  P
                           ­                     L
                                          ­                 A
                                                               ­         T.

"Unloved"

a flickering red light
at night
shaking hands with insomnia


"They don't care"


haunting my mind.


My lungs wrapped with their agreement,
a trapping embrace - cold and fragmented.


I felt like myself again,
but my box,
didn't come with more pieces.


To replace the ones I lost.


My heart
beats sideways; wrongly,
through my ribcage.
Tearing it, and my body apart.
As easily as paper.


Life's a dead end.
I know I'll lose all parts of me.
One by one; forgotten.


Like ashes in the wind.