I have the world in my palm.
I am sitting where the land ends
and the sky begins.
Beauty is in all that my eyes encounter.
My mind is turning inside out.
It is capturing these wonders;
committing them to memory for a later date.
Confused and bruised by existence,
we are all strangers to this place.

These words fumble out of my mouth
like building blocks of a clumsy child.
They are innocent, unaware;
puerile, if I dare.
But frivolous as they seem,
they have been uprooted from the
dusty corners of my heart.
They are defenseless and exposed.
I cup my hands in a poor attempt to
collect these impulsions that stream
from my lips.
Too late, they delved themselves into you
like daggers from my hands;
and for that, I am sorry.

I aim with good intentions, these weapons at the tip of my tongue.

We are in a timeless world that is coming to an end
so quickly that we are fooled to believe
that we have a
lifetime ahead of us.

What is a lifetime when it varies
with each day?
What is a lifetime when we test this unknown entity
with every minute of the hour?
We are fools.

We are afraid of that which we do not know.
We are fearful for our hearts, for our trust,
for our sanity..but we are broken and skeptical
and all mad anyways.
What are we fearing for?
We are fearing for our past and
it does not make sense.
Love is falling into one another.
I want to fall into the puddle of your sorrow
and your madness and your beautifully
expired colors.

I am a new puddle.
One you have yet to let touch your skin.
I am not merely a reflection on the surface
waiting to be disrupted by you diving head first.
I am not an illusion.
I am not your past.
I am not all these fears that sleep in your veins.
Won’t you see?

We are fearing a lifetime that we
have never seen.
We are unaware and foolish and naive,
and we have these vague ideas that all that exists
is that which we have already seen.
We are fools.

I want to fall into your foolish puddle of expired colors.

Say something. Say anything.
My mind is a war zone.

Ammunition loaded, open fire on my sanity.

We think we’re invincible.
We think we know every dusty corner
and boarded window of this existence.
We think that we are impenetrable.
Not even we can penetrate ourselves.
Until we do.

Until we find the one solitary loop hole
that exponentially increases to ten solitary loop holes
to fifty solitary loop holes
to such an infinite number of solitary loop holes
that you cannot even form a complete thought
because you know it’s targeted directly at your
own consciousness, at your own dignity, at your
own ******* heart.

We manage to discover these loop holes
because we predict their outcomes.
We predict the ******* future with our
careless decisions and our arrogant triumphs towards
happiness.

And suddenly, we’re humbled and broken
and irreparable because of our own *******
psychic minds and our own naive
ideas of happiness.

And now we’re all lying in a pile of rubble.

Our souls ruined and tainted with no one
left to help us pick up the pieces of ourselves
because we were all too ******* selfish and
proud in our poor attempts at satisfying this
morbid existence.

Then we wait the eternity it takes for these
self destructive ruins to lose their pulse,
to fade into an alternate universe of silence
so we can quietly slip away from this
vile consciousness.

We wait
until the heartbeat of these run down,
dirt covered left overs of ourselves finally
goes still.
We wait
until we learn to live in the pile
of **** we call ourselves;
until we realize that we
are our only destruction.

I believe that there are some souls
born into this existence tormented
by truth.

A truth that will never falter.
Branded into their beings is the truth
that without love,
we are nothing.
We are meant to love and be loved.
Our sole purpose is to fall in love.

These troubled souls are faced with
the realization that once love has left you..
nothing else remains.
Life loses its color. Suddenly,
everything is dull
and the fire within you extinguished.
Life is filled with emptiness.
Empty words, empty promises,
empty lies, empty cycles,
empty sorrow that engulfs you and
becomes you.

Without love,
we strive to fill the bottomless
pit of our souls. But,
it will perpetually amount to nothing.

We are nothing.
We are mindless creatures searching in all
the wrong places.
We are hopeless.
And the only way to live fully is
through love.
So, where do we go when love is lost?


We become sorrow at it’s best.

My heart lives in my throat
recently. It lives empty and losing its
pulse in my throat. Day by
day it becomes harder
to swallow. I’m on the edge of choking.

I’m on the edge of stillness, of
no more beating. And then I will
choke. I will choke on my
own still, heavy  heart.
I once knew what it meant
to live. I knew what it meant
to breathe and to see and to feel.
I knew passion and love and
happiness. I once knew what it was like
to feel. And now all I know is this
numbness. All I know is this
empty existence. All I know is waking up
each morning with the prospect of the day
ending already consuming my thoughts. All
I know is not wanting to wake up
at all. I do not know feeling any longer.
I do not know breathing or seeing
or living. I know existing for the sake of not dying.
All I know is not dying. That
is what it has come to. Don’t die
today. Wake up
tomorrow. Get through the
day. Wake up. Get through the
day. Don’t wake up. Don’t
wake up. Don’t wake up.

I am on my way to choking.