I'm giving a reading.
The crowd looks up at me with stars for eyes.
And it sounds beautiful and poetic, 'til you realize that means there is nothing ahead but the void of space.
I'm just floating- hapless, helpless
Through existence.
Every now and then I get pulled a certain direction, but I never enter orbit.
I'm reading to the stars.
The isolation doesn't alarm me like it used to.
I'm either more resilient, jaded, or dead- I can't really tell.
I finish my reading and I'm met with silence. I am lost. I never belonged. I'm too soft for killers and addicts and lawyers and politicians.
I'm too hard for priests and schoolteachers and poets.
I float on through the stars,
Looking for signs of life.

I've been floating for some time now....

I am a hideous thing stumbling through a field of sunflowers.
They reach high high toward the sky
I hang my head low low to avoid the glare in my eyes. It took me too long to realize; I belong nowhere, and so, I am at home in the shade amongst the nightcrawlers and vampires. The breeze hits my knees, my soul tires of walking through the hulking weeds. The sun sets, and their heads droop. It's finally time to move.

The moon shines
Through my blinds.
Insomnia creeps up from behind,
"Where do you think you're going?"

I was a fool to think I could run-
For thinking I could change my outcome by being numb.
To darkness, I succumb.
I've forgotten faces, emotions, memories;
What keeps me up?
Why am I up?

We all pay penalties
For living,
But why must we find reasons to live?


.......its 2:22 A.M.
And dreams
Are dying
Under the skyline
And sounds of dogs barking.

At least I'm not the only one up

It's all gone.
The dying wisp that is my soul
Has moved on.
I am a husk,
Waiting now only
For dusk.
Take a drink
Only if I must.
**** myself
Because it is just.
The good ones leave
Without a word-
Victims to a toxic world.
The good ones leave
And we don't get the message.
Evil stays; forever restless.
And I'm here.
I'm here.
Wondering where
My ticket is.

I self-deprecate
To self-medicate
Because I'm afraid
That if I'm too great
The world will take
What little innocence
I have left.

So no, I'm not worth your time, or your effort. Let me sulk in this corner, picking through scraps of the dumpster that is my heart. And maybe I won't find diamonds or gold or riches, but maybe I can recover my art.

Floating through space,
An endless eternity.
A forgotten face,
Do you even remember me?
Cold and alone, but not scared.
I was born
To choke on air.
Reality is just a word devised
To constrain the mind.
I exist, not here,
Outside of time.
Wake up!
Wake up!
I tell myself.
Wake up!
Wake up!
There must be something else.....

To walk through the fire unscathed
Is not ideal
For it means you are too used to the burn-
And no one likes their steak well-done