I have this seemingly endless list of passions, desires, dreams, and necessities. They haunt me. I am stuck in this state of near oblivion in a dismal attempt at removing myself from it all. It seems that time itself is taunting me; reminding me of the days and hours that are slipping easily from my grasp. There are mountains to be climbed and trails to be hiked and planes to be flown. I have the world to see and it seems that I am approaching the cliff and I can either dive into my travels or turn around sullenly and hope to find this time again. Meanwhile my studies await my return and my career hangs in the air with hope of a worthwhile degree. Yet I feel as if I am sewn to the floor of this place and there is no cutting myself loose to tend to any of these callings. I am watching my life pass me by and I am not entirely sure how to become a part of it.

I had the intention of writing, but there is this immense void where my emotions should be. It is a curious thing..how such an extravagant lack of feeling can suddenly become such a feeling that it is as if you are drowning in a sea of nothingness. I am stationary in an abyss that is filling my lungs with a heaviness I havent yet known. Something has to change before I am consumed by this numbness. Something has to change before I lose my ******* mind.

I am a hollow chest,
rising and falling in the mindless
routine of staying alive.

I am barren walking through
a concrete jungle, waiting
to deteriorate into the tainted
soils of this
grim joke we call life.

Memories cascade through my mind today. My hands long and my insides ache. There should be a flood warning issued for my lungs and an explosive hazard label for my heart. Keep your distance. I am a walking catastrophe

My hands are kerosene,

igniting everything they touch.

Everything I cherish crumbles

to ash.

I should come with a warning label-

"Beware, highly unstable and capable of mass destruction"

I once was ruined,

and now I ruin.

"Attention: Run as fast as you ******* can"

I am sinking, and I am grabbing at any hand

that I can pull down with me.

I will try to climb your walls,

and you will need to build them higher.

Do not be fooled by my tender facade;

I am capable of annihilation.

Hide your heart from my gentle hands,

for it will shatter when I drop it.

Do not think I mean harm,

I will have the best of intentions.

With my best attempt at love,

you will crumble to ash in my kerosene hands.

By night, it all gets a little

heavier.


Each measure of each song reaches a little

further into the pit of the stomach.

Each touch from each lover burns the skin with a little

more heat,

sure to leave with more permanence.

Each breath of each lung pulls a little

more even; stretches the ribs a little further.

Each beat of each feeble heart feels a little

more sturdy; a little closer to the throat.

Each word from each mouth tastes a little

more like honesty, like humility,

like the plead to be discovered.


Each worry of each hopeful dawns a little

bit harder; seems a little more tragic.

Each memory of each soul has a

freshly sharpened blade, sinking a little

bit deeper.

Each reality of each dreamer sits a little more

threatening on your chest, stealing your divine air.

Each fear of each mind lurks a little darker,

a little more suffocating,

a little more real.


By night our world is raw, unsheathed.

By night it is all a little heavier on our souls,

like dew on a too warm spring morning;

beautiful, but a little harder to breathe in.