your hands in sunlight have often been god. And

i

have often been in love with them the way
they coilsome the body of a cup
in summer when or
(in your lap)
outside a café

neatly

you laugh

and your hands
(in sunlight)

You go down the streets you have once know, feeling so alone. A Cornucopia of thoughts like a tide splashing your brain causing riptides in your thought, you rip out the sutures of your heart so you can feel again, being sad has never been so pleasing. Is it in you? Do you have what it takes to be that person you strive for? Is it hard? Is it hard? You think you’re worthless, you think you’re done. Tangents go off in your brain causing you to go insane

WHy do I think like this why do I think like this

Being sad has never been so pleasing, never been so pleasing being so sad.

Tangents going off driving me ******* insane
WE have wooden eyes, we have rusted bones,
WE have wooden eyes we have rusted bones
broken bones and vacant eyes.

The vibrating feeling you get when in a trance of contentment, where nothing contaminates your brain, with false allusions of what to be. You hold selflessness within your heart and soul, where debility is non-existing, just sitting out of the ring. Where the roots of bitterness are snipped, because the branches were begging for mercy as to they were betrayed. You smile towards the sun waiting for infinity, and a gasp from reality. The meaning of life lies between your eyes, maybe you see it as a disguise for self contentment, but just accept that it’s happening, and you shall be happy .From the beginning of time to the gates of hell, this is where we all dwell.

Pills, they are supposed to make you happy right?

Have we lost our ******* minds?

Being controlled by milligrams

they say it will help you

but it's just feeding our addiction

your face hums behind my closed eyes
as i tumble down a rabbit hole
goosebumps rise like baking yeast
the stars in my ribs spin like wheels
and all i can smell is the warmth of your skin

in the dark i drink the moments in
and hope that by the time sun leaks through
there is nothing in this dimension but dust

I'd like a fresh start.
Is that too much to ask?
I'd want to move on,
but that's a laborious task.
My past weighs me down
like a noose
or a crown.
I need a new page,
or I think I may drown.

We tight rope walk
down our double edged sword
we wage war like the Gods
atop Olympus
We cultivate life
like the farmer tends to his crops
We are that of
flesh
blood
heart
emotion
strength
weakness
grit
and steel
We crack the earth
with our footsteps
and call it industry
A species of slaves
who enslave each other
because it is all we know
dark times pass above us
like thunder clouds
but in moments
we produce unthinkable greatness
like forks of lightning
across the black canvas
of the night sky

unfocused, blurry
smudged
blink
focus again
oh I'm here
oh..
response
Yeah, I'm listening
dull
weary
there he is
yet again
invading
blurry
unreal
so close
but not reachable





so close
but
not
reachable