If fate existed

How could you possibly fail
With deeds,
predetermined,
in life's tale.

That would not be your failure!

Look up,
You're able. Capable.
Time to turn the table.

Inspiration doesn't strike me
I feel I have to earn it

My heart says,
       Write, for you have words to say
          Words to be heard
             Words to be thought on

My heart and head do not converse
I know this
As my hands are still frozen
There is no inspiration

It flows
    And stops
         It dies
              And clots
                  Revives
                       It thrives
                          Until I drop

As alcohol courses through me
Turning pure blood to taint
My wits are dulled
And thoughts askew

That light is rather bright
That one up ahead
Too boozed up
To find the brake

...


Awaking briefly
No pain
Talking man with his blue mask
Hooking up a bag of life

It's red and thick
I've seen it before
Perhaps it was mine I gave
My life is too pathetic for another to save

Irony of my own blood replacing
My own blood

Is it worth it
Should they bother

Let me suffer my consequences

Just let the blood stop

I can already it feel it starting to clot.

Now look at this face
       Do you remember this smile?
           I wore it for you.

As I use this conditioner on my hair
I think,
Do I need hair this fair.
As a man, should I care?

      But it turns so soft and silky!
      Just feel it, touch it,
      So smooth and wispy!

Shush now voice, I tell you,
I do not care for this fair hair!
I do not need fair hair with flare!

      Don't you like the way it smells?
      So clean and fruity,
      Smelling fresh as sleeping beauty!

Enough! I do not need fair hair
Or hair with flare
Or hair that glares
So man up!

And rub some dirt in there!

If life were as he dreamt it,
He'd count on one hand;
His worries, his fears, his gone wrong plans.

Alas, a dream is that, a dream.

Happy, sad.

I love and loathe my brain for these.