Solid pitch
Liquid strain
Blood curdled scream
Agony, pain

Fog driven steps
Casting away
Murdered inside
Don't want to stay

Trapped in the moment
Object of time
Cold hard walls
Prison is mine

You were there
Spirit of dust
Push right through me
My heart was a must

Shake this disease
Molded like clay
Wrapped up arms
Can longer say

Gone like a whisper
Voices in ear
Shh in the silent
No longer there

a lot of people ask who I write for

and mainly it’s really for my girlfriend

I’ve always said that she’s the kind of girl

that makes you write poetry.

it’s to express the endless love

the irretrievable gratitude

and the unconditional happiness I feel.

but it’s also for the broken ones

who desperately want to believe in hope

who have Pandora’s box

wrenched from their hands.

for the crying ones

who need solidarity and a warm cup of tea

overwhelmed and wrapped in a blanket.

it’s also for the 9-to-5’s

who drink when they come home

for those who are simply fed up

and want an escape from it all.

I write to help heal.

for the people out there

who just need to know someone understands.

I write because it’s 4am and

I’m listening to Keaton Henson

and these raw feelings

won’t leave my brain

and won’t let me sleep

so really,

I write

to save myself.

the world does
into color, green
vegetables,
brown bark
golden fields,
red sunsets,
white snow,
black nights,
brown dirt covering
me.
There are,
through colors many
realities.
small birds,
fiercest Tigers,
is my mind a reflection?

Stepping on the corpses of all you've known
trekking through the field of bones
the sirens sing, green angels with broken wings
like a  desolate future, in need of suture
I see a patina on everything, rustic brains
you can always find some sign of life
for there is always life within something
rose still exist among the filth and ****
there will always be beauty in the lies
and in the truths that flow through our mouths

Why don't I just go Cheef Off?
Im a no good piece of garbage
waste of time
scream it carve it in.

Maybe I'm afraid.
Maybe I can't take the heat.
Maybe I believed the lies before today only to be abandoned and broken
For an eternity since then.

You and Me are different.
Abrasion spectrum's disproportionate.
I have seen the bottom of life.
The lack of breath.
abandoned to hate.

Why can't I be carefree and happy?
How can everyone be different from me?
Where is the nonchalant enjoyment?
I guess I lost it in the storm in the sea.