In an area of outstanding natural beauty,
I hear,
'nice flowers, let's pick some'
but
my gun is ready
my aim is steady
if those flowers go
so do they,

I am deadly

why try?
this isn't a pick what you can
and buy
it's a pick if you dare and die,

Love the wilderness as
you love
your own and leave the flowers
alone.

i sit and i stare
and i stare
and i stare
and i stare

i don't really feel like doing anything else.
i don't really feel at all
i can't feel
i can't sleep
i can't.

it all just wraps around me
like a safety blanket of numb.

because if i take the blanket off,
numb turns into pain
and pain turns into nothingness
and i turn back into something i never want to be.

Today I'll write one last letter.

One last letter to finally forget.
Because everything's over,
our future is set.

One last letter to softly let go
Because I am done,
feeling so low.

One last letter to gently forgive
Because that's the thing,
I need to live.

P.S I hope, that soon I'll feel better
but deep down I wish, this weren't my last letter.

i am tired.
not for a lack of rest --
no, i slept quite well last night
and I've had my coffee.

its something deeper, something
inherently present, in the
fibers of my skin,
in my tendons, in my eyes.

i am exhausted,
fatigued by life
by the noise and the silence,
the people, and
the empty rooms,
the light and the dark;
by hope and
despair.

so worn down by the world
that nothing in it can
refresh my mind from the
constant buzzing.

i am tired, and there are not
enough hours in the night
for the type of rest i need.


-U.K. & m.g.

I have an exhaustion,
Buried deep under my skin,
And as hard as I try,
I can't seem to rid myself of it.
I oversleep and under-sleep,
I overeat and I under-eat.
I try just short of everything,
To find any ounce of energy,
I lost so long ago.
But I should have known better,
This was not just exhaustion.
No amount of sleep could cure
what I am plagued with.
An exhaustion not from lack of energy,
but from a lack of euphoria.