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Karma Nov 2024
It’s hard to decipher
What’s real, and what’s fake,
When I spend my time sleeping,
Afraid of the wake.

It’s easy to tell
Of the future that waits,
When deep in my slumber,
My dreams show my fate.

Can’t seem to decide
If love can be felt,
When indifference consumes me,
And hatred just melts.

Can’t tell what I’m feeling.
In patience, I fall.
My logic can fail me
When in conscience, I call.

I feel my voice slipping
When my thoughts become evi,
My desires start dreaming,
And my eyes become heavy.
The world is screaming out.
Can you hear it?
It it's moment of crisis
The world is asking me
Who I am.
I suppose,
I suppose it's time I answer.
Karma Nov 2024
To forge a poem,
A bar not resinous.
To steal a fire
From top a precipice.
To bear the heat
Of finite flames.
Embrace the hurt,
Engulf the pain.
Feel your wrist
Become alight,
Feel your hand
Begin to write,
Feel your thoughts
Escape the brink,
And feel your pen
Run off its ink.
Sparked inspiration
Ignites internal,
And burning paper
Becomes infernal.
Ashes, scorching
Stack in piles,
And ashen writing
Line in files.
A dying fire
Has lost its flare,
So write again
If you so dare.
Just light your hand
Ablaze again,
Consume the torch,
And raise your pen.
Karma Nov 2024
I used to be
Able to read,
But recently,
Your words seem
To move on
Their own.
Why can’t I read your words?

I used to be
Able to hear,
But recently,
Your presence seems
To lenite
On its own.
Why can’t I hear your gaze?

I used to be
Able to feel,
But recently,
Your sound seems
To lose tact
On its own.
Why can’t I feel your noise?

I used to be
Weak.
Recently,
Your being has
Ceased to be
By my hand.
Why have I
Become agnostic to you?

I used to be
Able to think,
But now, frequently,
You seamlessly
Fill my thoughts
On your own.
Why can’t I remember you?

I used to be
Able to know,
But at some point,
You seem to have
Left me
On my own.
Where did I end up falling?

I’ve always wondered
What strength was,
And after time,
It seems that I’ve
Learned
On my own.
I wonder if you did too.
Since you've been gone, I've considered my indifference a strength. I thought maybe if you were indifferent to being away from me, you certainly have the potential to be much stronger than me.
Karma Nov 2024
No longer of use,
The static colliding,
The past in recluse
In the attic, residing

Colors rot in the dust
Pictures die in the silence,
As corpses make fust
And complain under pileus.

The mycelium harvest,
In boredom, they thrive.
And much like the artist
Through flesh, their roots rive.

A place where ghosts and ghoul like to screech,
A place where even the flies couldn’t reach.
Karma Nov 2024
They say I'm alone
But I am not.
I work with the dead,
So I’ve got
Ghosts and ghouls in my head,
Each of them a friend,
Sharing their wisdoms
In rot.

It’s been some time
Since I’ve met a living.
They come
Insisting my giving
To them my help,
Often of health
But their stories
End only in sinning.

A woman’s just entered
My morgue.
With courage,
She came through the door.
He stride struck a chord-
Like I’d seen her before-
Like I knew my advice’d
Be ignored.

Of course,
She wanted my help.
From death,
Was the terror she felt.
She had come all this way,
I had nothing to say?
So she thanked me and
Returned to her hell.
Karma Nov 2024
So often I can’t breath with my heart in my throat.
I walk with my eyes on the ground
Wondering what the answer to you is.
When I should speak
I pick up my pen instead.

So often you are at the beginning and end of the ink that runs my papers.

When we talk, something meaningless usually,-
Though still I smile-
Though I still shake-
My heart falls straight from my throat to my gut.
And I have a new sickness.
I know the word for it.
I know it well, thanks to you.
But I can’t say it-
Write it, not even here where you can’t see.
Because now, I feel like I’m not allowed to.

I’m not.

It just makes me more sick.
I can still forgive you.
Karma Nov 2024
I saw you in the grass as shadows passed.
I saw you under a reflection on a screen.
I saw you as a small
                                    Red
                   ­                         Dot
On a tab that wasn't even open.

Like you should have been there.
How I wish you were there.

I remembered the anticipation I felt as I left the school building.
And I remembered the dread I felt
After only a few hours without you.
I always thought
"How bad would I become if it were longer?"
I think such no longer.
I have found my answer.

This
         is real dread.

I feel a clock ticking.
I'm unsure if the timer is still set, or if it has ended.
And my mind plays a familiar feeling over that alarm.

How much
                     longer?

I speak up to simply reach out to you.
Our small interactions recharge me, but make me hurt so little more.
It's so stupid of me to wish I could speak with you longer.

But you run
To the sound of me.
I will forgive you
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