Oooookay,
I pretty much know what's in-store
I've been here before
Some days I feel I've never left
One day it'll be where I take my last breath

©2024

Death is silent
It has no tongue
It has no voice
For it does not need to speak
Death does not ignore the pleas
It has no ears to hear them
It has no soul to feel them
It is the only inevitable
The only guarantee
It sends no warning
Most likely never see it coming
There is only false hope
A lie we all try to convince ourselves of
But feared or not
Welcomed or not
It comes all the same
Family name, from where you came
It cares not
For no other reason than it needs not care
Arriving to take away what defines the living
It can not be tricked
It can not be bardered with
No heart strings to pull
It hasn't a brain in its skull
It can not decide one way or another
For it is not given an order
It just is
But the same can be said about life
As you can not have one without the other

2024

I stopped looking
for my other half
in other people
the moment I realized
I was already whole
within myself.
I find no shame
in my solitude
now that alone
I do not feel lonely.

Grief has a lexicon that
I’ve spent a period of
hard times seeking it
I gained nothing but an enormous
failure to devote myself
to its complete literature,
The perfect Salvia Plath is
patting on my cumulative sores,
admitting that it is my right to
file a grievance against my chores,
work, and daily unfair routine,
as she said that she used to be
so wicked; writing all the day
and forgetting about studying,
she said that I had gotten such a
black-and-white soul for
almost uncountable centuries of
self-wars,
Dear Nicole: She wrote—  
Whether you are a believer or not,
You dare to be the
ninety-nine hundredth savior to
the definition of our nihilism.
Sincerely yours,
Sylvia Plath
I closed my eyes and
bleakly enjoyed her poetic
admission that I had faked it
for a while to
keep my victories beating
against all the brightness and
naturality inside of
my pores,
I’m not a happy person;
I belong to sorrow.

I went out to find
Some value in me,
So I sold what I had
For little a fee.

My eyes for a penny
I sold to some fools,
They're blind and useless,
Mistook for jewels.

My lips for a nickel
To the sweetest sin,
So they'll know the love
That has never been.

My ears for a dime
I sold to a lover.
To hear sweet nothings,
And silence uncover.

My hands for a quarter
I sold to a ghost,
So that she might feel
What I've wanted the most.

Finally my bones for a dollar
I sold to the earth,
But as for my soul-
There was found no worth.