One wrong turn, a sudden misstep
Live and learn, or stumble on to His step.
Theres a fine line
between risk and reward,
When its my time?
What was it all for?
I'm not convinced, im on the right path
Every day's a struggle to give all that I have.
Im not saying im unhappy,
far from it.
I just don't know if Im happy,
with what im becoming..

It's been so long, can't remember the beginning.
I feel like a failure, even when I'm winning.
Through your eyes, I realize, I'm paralyzed
but the world keeps spinning.

and that's a concept, I haven't really grasped yet.
I got doubts , for things I haven't asked yet.
a brief cold answer, Grief and Anger
a figure in a casket.

I guess we're both just at a standstill
We're both things that we can't stand still.
It's touch and go, you should know,
it's usual, a broken soul CAN ****

You say, "that shouldn't be how a 'man' feels."
I'm just exhausted, that I am ill.
So many questions, regrets, what ifs,
Swear I could fill a landfill.

So full, that it can spill,
I used to know between the fake and real
a mountain grown from an anthill,
Heart so heavy, I carry, an anvil.

Drawn to death like a sick moth to the flame,
The topic's toxic, turn and tossing,
Teeter totter for days,
It seems to follow me, a hollowing,
a carving of hearts,
Darkness trailing, gloom impaling me,
I'm falling apart.
There's art in death, not that it's pretty but well orchestrated
Amidst a somber tune, a hopeful light,
But in the core there's hatred.
An elegy of emptiness..
  A ghastly, dark symphony.
And when I die, please don't cry..
  Just sing for me.

I let the ink spill like i sliced an artery. Then i drink til, my mind's an anomaly.
I think ill, solitude's so ******* me.
On the, brink still, it's a lil disheartening.

But I keep writing anyways.
Believe me, there are many days,
Thinking of a way that I could find to cope with.
The fact I lost someone that I thought I would grow old with.
Sometimes life just isn't fair
And in it, there's no favorites,
Cherish every moment,
Smell the roses, you should savor it.

They say good things come,
to those of us that wait.
Some pay no attention to it,
Some others call it fate.
But I guess there is some truth,
to having a little patience.
Cuz you showed up and easily surpassed all expectations.
That made the wait so worth it,
There's no way, nowhere no forces,
That could separate me from a being that's so perfect.
So if I had to, I'd wait again.
Wait longer than Roman Rory,
I'd wait as long as I needed,
for the chance to start our story.

I overheard two kids talking,
They say the darndest things,
In the span of 5 minutes, they were laughing, crying, arguing.
They argued about who was faster,
They laughed at jokes I didn't get.
They whispered plenty secrets,
Double-dared and made some bets.
"I can run around you a million times in two minutes"
"But I have a glue that slows you down,
The more you run around in it"
"Mr. Fernandez, you have to pick!
Him or me, who is faster?
"Don't look at me, I'm not getting in the middle of this matter.
You both need to solve this.
Don't fight or throw a fit.
"Okay, fine! I got it, we'll play tag then and you're it!
And as they ran off laughing,
That's when I realized.
They're just kids but they know what it means to truly be alive.

When times are great,
We never ask ourselves why.
We often say that we deserved it,
but that's just a lie.
And when we're feeling down,
When you just wish you could die,
That's when you start to question your position and purpose in life.
You start to question your past,
And grow afraid of your future.
You regret that though choices were vast,
The ones you made were not super.
An optimist won't worry,
they say "It'll all fall in place".
A pessimist feels buried,
Guilty, like a lost case.
I don't know what to think.
and I don't have any answers.
Half my thoughts are scattered ink trails, rain from rambling ranter.
When it comes to life and purpose,
If you were to ask me,
I'd tell you we're all exactly, where we're all meant to be.

30 DPC #21

Rebirth and Overdose

I drink too many toxins,
I can't sleep.

I'm feeling way too boxed in,
Sides too steep.

Don't give me the rope just yet,
I might do something I regret,

And use the rope to run away
and just forget.

**Remixed from the work of Aliza Eliora, and her poem, Overdose.