It was as simple as
turning off a light, or
crushing a bug.
He realized early
that reality had
a brutal side;
band aids didn't
stick to his heart
so he checked out;
he disassociated with
the scenery around him,
and created a kinder
world, with no
brutality or cruelty.

And then one day
he built a
sailboat made of
cardboard and silk,
and just sailed away.
There were no
shadows as he
smiled at the
putrid, bright sun.

My mind is unsure whether it is the true mother of its thoughts or merely their surrogate?

You'll always be loved
in the heart of white feathers
Let your heart simmer
in the arms of another

Exhale your thoughts
as I leave one last kiss
and let you flow into
the cerulean eye's
of the sea to set you free

i keep buying fictional drinks,

to fix my dysfunctional brain,

without a single soul to help,

but i know too well, the bitter hell,

of caring about other opinions,

than the ones i can place on myself.

the dusk wastes its pity on me. in its muted retiring lights, i have learned a terrible habit of forcing poems out of my mouth,
when maybe all i wanna do is be as quiet as the wounds nesting inside my head.