Most miserable
when she’s happy

Most shameful
when she’s proud

Most prescient
when unconscious

Most distant
in a crowd

Most forthright
when not speaking

Most giving
when denied

Most secret
when she’s telling all

Most dead
—but still alive

(Dreamsleep: December, 2021)

my heart
was caged for keeping

my mind
kept safe inside a case

my soul
hid from stealing

my body
kept guard by my face

I know
There is time when when you can't keep up with your smile .
THEN
People say "stay strong" ,
"stay positive ",
"everything will be alright" ,
STILL
Deep inside you know ,
you are tired of being strong
and there is nothing positive for you .
You question yourself "when will everything be alright?".
BUT.
Only you know your story
only you know what you have been through
only you know how it feels to be you.
.You're not born to please others ,
you are born to be a WARRIOR .
.

the algorithm is so random
I don't understand
what makes something trend

kind of like the real world
isn't it?

My flesh is suffocating
Smothering my soul
I can feel my bones
Hollow and heavy
My arms;
Fingers;
Legs;
Toes;
Neck;
Skull

I am trapped
Stuck inside a suit
Designed of organic materials
Meat and flesh
Designed to rot away one day

My flesh moves
As if with a mind of its own
As I sit, trapped behind my ribcage
As if my own personal jail

I see
I hear
I speak
Yet i cannot

I am here
But gone
I long for home
As I lay in my bed

A feeling of emptiness
As if floating in space
Drifting through the world
I cannot understand

My soul
My spirit
Gasping for air
Grasping for a tether
Hoping to the gods above
Please don't let this be my demise

My flesh is suffocating
Smothering my soul
I can feel my bones
Hollow and heavy

frigid bedroom evening

lamentation of lost wants

a mind retracing steps

down multiverse avenues



she spoke in silent language

wordless choral decrees

replaced with analyses

discordant requiems for his dreams



deep impression of doom

a frantic marathon from this costume

ghostly presence consumed 

those darkest illusions exhumed



this bitter summertime pill

chased with echoes of failure

requirement: found abandoned 

or self, left to ****

there's a reason why 'human' and 'kind'
are close, like bees in hives, seams in clothes.
there is no cliff nor space cleaved by a comma
between humankind