In the morning, I gather my thoughts of yesterday
Like the foraging chipmunk, collecting acorns
And stuffing them miserly in my jowls
The past is sustenance for a somnolent soul

As age condemns my faculties
I pull, from my once copious jowl
A jewel of sorts
A garnet set in fool’s gold

My memory is manufactured
Assembled and disassembled
No longer what was or is or will be
But was and is and never has been

I confine my thoughts to winter
Where barren fields and sterile trees
Offer less to recollect
And empty my jaws of these useless reminiscences

There's a thorn in my finger
I pull and watch the black pour out
Watch as anger takes me into stone
I stop
Frozen in place
Filled with a dark heart
I spring back to life
Leaping at the enemies that put knives into me
But as soon as I walk away
The feelings fade
No knives
No ******
Just me
Alone with a dark heart
Alone with black blood
A monster inside
A passion of mine
Escape is no option
Can't run
But I'll hide

we all have a cavity
our hearts, our souls
dipped in a sweet longing
for lust, for love
happiness made of bees wax
the sting, forever etched
on our skins, in every memory
awake and asleep with the pain
stings as cruel as the memories we hold dear
we're all dead, not yet
we can escape, but reality has a rope on our neck
a joke we're alive as we gasp for breath
the world defined by the acute pain
every other day we have to deal
with all our hopes we try
must we continuously bleed til we get rid of the pain?
and yes, we live, barely alive in a hollow world
buried beneath our chest
we must always try to live-
without regrets