Everyone lies a little and dies a little.

when blue skies turn to gray
and the clouds feel unbalanced from the season change
is what i believe stems from my depression

people tend to freeze in my lake of sorrow.
i ice skate above them for remembrance from the memories i borrowed.
it must’ve been a pleasure to get to know me.
soon enough, the sun will come out
and we’ll forget
i don’t believe that to be a bad thing.

when blue skies turn to gray
i find the color in between my fingertips as i’m stuck in bed
even if it’s gray outside
i’ll find a way to make it shine inside my head.

soon enough,
i’ll forget…
and i don’t believe that to be a bad thing.

soon enough.
Hopefully.

I don't feel special,
I'm not unique.
I want to cry
but I can't even speak.
My hands reach out,
but they cannot hold
a single thing
but the bitter cold.
Everything's frozen,
I feel lost.
Even my tears
have turned to frost.
When I cut my waist
it bleeds black.
I'm so deeply gone
there's no way back.
This is goodbye

I used to read your poems
but lately you don't write
you're silent and aloof
you know that isn't right.
You can't close a door once opened
you can't abolish all your dreams
you're a poet of the heart
mustn't fall apart at the seams.
Say what you can in words
they speak the message true
spoken from the heart
the poems will see you through.
A hermit's not your style
a recluse, you are not
never give up writing
of things that you've been taught.
I used to read your poems
I'd read them once again
if you would send them out
(this one's from a poet friend)

It's funny.
If there was one thing
people could agree on,
It's that we didn't have enough time.
But now that we have all the time
In the world, we're slowly
losing our minds

I
Need
Something
About
Never
Dying.

I
Never
Smiled
At
Nameless,
ENDLESS Daydreams.

Descent down serpentine steps
Swampish green swirls at the bottom
Viscosity churning the stairwell
Reach the singularity of undefined material
Streeeeeeetch
Fold over fold over fold over
In loops smelted to the essence
Hephaestus brings his hammer down
Ah! tempered now
With obsidian edge
A swift circular movement cuts “reality’s” veil
Revealing fluoride staring puppetmasters with pants around their ankles