Memories revolving in my mind,
Russian Roulette
The world spinning but I stay stationary in thought ,
Good or not
Nothing to distract as white noise and the ring of silence submerges me,
Voices screaming a thousand things,
Full of doubt and negativity
Sentences exploding like wildfires
Every word feeding oxygen into the flames,
My conscience constantly filled with this chaos,
Do I dive into the flames or finally take the shot?
Hesitation with an ivory grip,
Over analyzed contemplation
Meets hesitation till finally the metal trigger slips and click.
Take another spin?

Words come in order they go
Thrown through and around
Soundless but few some get misconstrued,
Hardly making sense.

The silent thoughts are the best,
Providing words that jest
But all were said in my head,
Still not making sense.

We can continue this game
Where I am the main pernicious pest
Making mindless lines that just don't make sense- then again, maybe you enjoyed it?

On a beach,
Wind howling,
Waves receding,
Tsunami.

Eyes fly open,
People were drowning,
History is repeating,
Tsunami.

Let troubled waters surround me,
Let hell be invited for tea,
Let supper's suculant bliss counter the days unfortunate ends,
Let night wrap me in its blanket of darkness and nightmares,
Let hope shine through upon morning -
Let us not forget to mourn.

Take a needle to my heart,
But not even this can thwart the pain,

Ink sets in,
Lapiz and green,
Blood flows for beauty is a gruesome thing.

Left over images,
Bruised leathered skin,
As a cold steel hardened heart.

The greatest hell devised is the one inside my head,
My imagination feeds off every dark depressing aspect of life,
And projects them through silent nights and regrets,
Soul shivering memories are played over and over untill I  feel their pain,
I find new faults and I feel responsible for their pain,
For we all could have done some thing. Some how.

It's getting harder to breath, as room to dream strinks. New ideas are more difficult to create as I age and my mind deteriates, the days of 16 killed the past self that I felt held the most potential. Now every time I close my eyes the only thing  i can remember are those blue eyes. In my paintings, the only colors I see are blue, red ,and gray. Your death transformed Halloween and Christmas to be dreaded dates. Stuck living in the past, trying to remember the curve of you face, depth of your eyes, and the sound of your voice, I ignore the future, for in time the trials of life have been turning me into a bitter morbid soul. I miss you.