I am a boy With a man's desires;
Trapped in the nothingness that is my existence.
Ask no questions,
Tell no lies.
The law of omertà,
The golden leak through the dark clouds.
Truth versus honesty
Genius versus insanity.
The fear of being average versus the fear of the arrogant.
I've fallen,
Once, or maybe thrice.
I've never admitted to doing so
Because men don't like to talk honestly
And putting your business in the public's eyes
Is a crime.
Ridicule becomes the order of the day.
So ahead is the only hand I deal.
Like the stage plays of time past,
What you see is all you'll get.
I am the bronze head,
Age is nothing to me but a few brown patches,
Anew once polished!

(in honor of 16shots by Vic Mensa)

humans :  dec. 10, 2023.
                         subject X
                         wavy hair, African descent.
                         command issued: bow down
                         return: subject X fails to conform
                         return: subject X fails to bow down.

subject X: Resist
                  Resist
                  Resist

humans : Subject X seems to have rejected        
                         our psych training.
                         return: conversion to slave failed.
                         inference: indomitable spirit 
                         advise: imprison subject X          immediately.
                       new orders: We have a rebel.  
                       I repeat: we have a REBEL!

Meaning of Requiem: A mass for the dead.

Winter's bidding;
Deep snow here, muddy pavements there.
Then, a procession of Roman Catholic members.
The big cross, the hymns and the dress codes are a huge give away.
The all black is a sharp contrast to the white snow covered country,
Or maybe it just serves to complement it
Like those little black poker dots that make white shirts appear natty and casual at the same time.


I struggle to watch the procession from above.
My office is on the third floor and I'm out for a smoke break.
I don't smoke, I just use that to get away from the drudgery that is my work.
The procession below reminds me of my co-workers - drab and solemn, all at once.
May the dead never have to confess how they truly feel about the burial rites that we perform at their funerals.

...

I was out till late last night;
Another citizen in the district,
Another observer minding his own business.

the foreshadowing of the christened.
the tears of a beginner;
shoulders sagged,
Dark purple tinted bags under my eyes,
Swollen sinuses,
White parched lips,
The results of incessant weeping,
My only expression of profound hurt -
The fate of the pained;
The pain of an amateur;
Tomorrow is certain,
If only we will make it there.
Or maybe we will!
Yesterday is but today;
A continuation afforded us.
A continuity without guarantee,
With continuity, our only ally…
Today I cry,
I soak and bath my flesh with heavy, warm tears.
Tears of events past, of years long thought forgotten.
But I come to a close end.
I have seen the dark but now I must step forward.
For come the ‘morrow,
My tears shall be my greatest rival!

We were two kids just trying to get out,
nothing was what it seemed.
In all my dreams,
You were that singular constant
or as it turns out, that constant variable.
Your love was beautiful and distant;
But the other dreams meant nothing
if I couldn't have you.
For I am nothing without you.
Привет, привет.
Скажи мне кто твой любимый!

Everything else that I want,
I have.
They all think I have it all,
Tell me that they think I'm cool.
The pain I carry with me.
The emptiness that is slowly becoming a part of me.
The hole only you can fill.
How we used to laugh that your dad chose a German male name for you.
Где ты моё сердце?

The two-letter word for futility.
If the world didn't treat me unfairly,
If my wife hadn't left me, 
I wouldn't be a drunk.
If my father had worked hard,
I wouldn't be suffering today.
If, if, if.
What if you stopped if-ing and you sought to carve out your own niche in this world?
Just what IF you chose to be a better human?
What if you refused to let your past control your future?
Just what if?

And so I cast a forbidden shadow over her beautiful nakedness.
I was the one that took,
I got everything I ever wanted.
"Want everything, be contented with a few,"they murmured behind my back.
I didn't have anything so I took all I could reach.
I took so much from her that she couldn't give me anymore.
And then I let her go like a trash bag about to be dumped into a waste yard.
she called and it always went straight to voicemail;
She cried her heart out to all her friends and they all called me morbid and foolish.
They told her that I wasn't man enough for her.
Then she got the call and she instantly knew why.
Mom called her the morning that I died.
She told her about my illness and handed the letters I had written her after that night.
Somehow, I hoped that she'd understand.
I didn't want her to suffer like I did on that hospital bed,
My deathbed.
Where do you go when you go quiet?