I don't leave my house much
and I keep to myself, dysthymia at my peak
    These days.
Blood in the sink after brushing my teeth for the first time in weeks
  and feeling all the more disgusted for it,although
I know it a mini victory in itself,enough of a sign for hope--
better than any ******* self-help book could suggest--
The laughing jittering chitchat all-being lovely paranoia stage has passed
And now i feel the hangover.
Luckily,the eureka's glued on too
And the reflection is easier to inspect now--
you know that Hemmingway quote:
Write drunk,edit sober? Like that,but over the coarse of a lifetime.
And how boring sober life is after the highest peak,but on the same note,
I've flushed the drugs to deter temptation,to better myself--
When i was bad they made me okay,
When i was great they made me even better,the world even closer...
But they're a ruining process. I've learnt to love the blossoming passion flower of my mind,
Although i want so to hate it currently.
I know i am,i know the universe is,and if you're reading this then you too are;
And that's all that needs to matter sometimes.

Through silence,through recluse,through art,through pen,through therapy,through time,through honesty,through dream,through woe,through laughter,through scream, through power,through weakness embraced,through fire,through love,
Through a madness unhinged but always aware
Of self and all surrounding;
You do what you can to get by,but most importantly,you do what you can to better yourself.

You don't have to be perfect everyday,
you dont have to be perfect most days,
But if you're trying for anything at all,you're braver than you could be,and not yet as strong as you should be
And that is a  very   very    good inspiration

There are things
I wished I'dve said to her
when I had the chance, There are days
when I wish I would've spoken my mind.
And there are times
when I wonder why I didn't, But now in the revelation
of my possible success
I wish her
here
by my side, though metaphorically and emotionally she always will be
but physically
I need her support.
Just like she needed mine.
But, millions and millions of miles away it feels
from her comforting glance, from the inexplicable
Freedom
she granted me, the
Confidence
she bestowed in my heart and now I wish
I wish she was somehow here again.

In inked down  passages
we exceed our smear forward design
drying things on dried things
spill across old deserts
that never were barren or old
our sight so weak so certain
as to blind us with every crescendo
as if that was the note to hold forever
they never are never ever are
moments gorgeous can't be held

Softly set
Like the summer sun
Blinded
By your lights
That you're
Shining on me
So crush me
Under your tongue
Drink me down
The taste of summer
Berries

-"Old nail, why linger yet so straight for,
All rust, but spirit still unshaken,
When everything around has been forsaken,
And all your brothers wither on the floor?

You last, and there's no point in lasting:
No petty beam, no structure to support,
For once a great design has fallen short.
Yours is just a sad and aimless waiting."

-"It's true, I have long outlived my purpose,
It's true I've been forsaken, I suppose.
Green woodbine is now crawling through this wall,

I know I'll soon be garbage to the tinker.
And yet there's a reason why I linger:
I linger 'cause I'm choosing not to fall."

i measure snow
by the lightyear --
only a few atoms per cubic
meter.
do you hear the crystals form?

the unfeeling, passionless mist looms
over the door, like over the bin of lamb chops at the grocer's.
an exit with no entrance
a retreat with no paid leave.
why won't you let me in?

i can see so many dying stars
in that compound eye of a cockroach
who hides in the walls, behind
a shield of asbestos, turning
over onto its back, vulnerable.

a thin sheet of ice forms over a puddle.
i dip my foot in and my boot so easily permeates,
intrudes.

I spent my time,
Thinking of you today,
It was brief,
Sweet,
But now the time is spent,
And tomorrow I'll pay again.