.
             *the *future is...a tornado of uncertain-
          ty• a swirling vortex, in its centre is
me•such power and speed, can ne-
ver see•can never foretell, it's hid-  
den debris•like clockwork, it will        
   make contact•by the second, bra-        
cing for next impact•the past is...      
  yet another•wild winds that echo      
     my mistakes as reminder•this twis-         
      ter within...tearing with no remo-    
           rse•destroying confident strong-
             holds, breaking feebly boarded
           doors•can't ease the rage...eat-
    en from the inside•won't stop
until...my beating heart had
        died•the present is...only this  
   frail little body•fighting huge 
battles that come incessantly  
  •fending off the future, con-        
    taining the past•not know-            
ing how long.......this disas-       
ter would last•but I'm still      
   here.....still holding integ-         
   rity......•still fighting this       
war waged in history's        
folly•will i be settl-
ed? will the winds
ever abate?•
will i ever
      come to    
terms...?
will i
ever
    acc-
          ept
                     fa      
                 t
               e
             ?
             •

I love
breaking the surface of other's lives.
Sharing experiences,
sharing moments that will leave with the smoldering wood ash
in the early grey morning.

I like
knowing I've came and gone
leaving subtle imprints
that led people to their current spot.
Unaware and given no gratitude creates
a bittersweet symphony
in my heart.

You owe me many nights of sleep
and medicine for making me weak
I can't even breathe anymore
because my lungs are battered and sore
from trying to tell you I love you
Over and over and over

Head of a bold pen
writing on a whim
with no deadline
Paper and lines
in front of your eyes
all of the time

**Creating this life

she swings
thinking about her tomorrow
she swings
to get away from her sorrow
she swings
while her master is away
she swings
to get away from her fate
she swings
not laughing
she swings
discreetly as they continue fighting
she swings
knowing that she is reckless
she swings*
*counting seconds to her death

Have you ever sat on a chair in a room?

Have you ever sunk deep inside yourself and drowned in your own emotions?

Have you ever caught yourself picking the fabric of that chair as you yell and scream at the one you say you love?

Have you ever felt like the objects in that room vanished along with your body?

*Yeah...