I'm dying,
Feeling the comforting cloud of death
doing flip-flops through my strain.
Energy bursts are useless attempts
     at frosting flakes of panic and regrets.
Slipping.
Forgetting.
Curt instructions from a dangerous smile.

Cloud of death. Your mysterious tension
        caresses every
        blood-vein in my body.
My lungs restrict,
my lungs constrict.
Empty shallow boxes
      filled with the nothing of
        resistance.

Can’t anyone see? Does anybody know?

Does
    anybody
     have the
      slightest idea
       of just how
        tiresome
         paying
          attention
           can be?

So let me go. So leave me alone.
Let the fibres of believing unravel,
        slip apart
        like
        cracked glass
          about to
          shatter.
I'm hurting.
Disillusioned membranes zoning into silence.
The self-illusion so palpable and strong.
Hope
      is for people
             who have
                   flowers to grow.

In the dining hall
The men are fed
Each one staring
At the other's bread
Each one wishing
He had said
That which lived
In the other's head
No more time
And no more sound
Each one's eyeballs
Moving 'round
The meal is set
Their mouths grow wet
They gorge themselves on tender meat
Each one grows heavy in his seat
The sailors pay
A heavy toll
For that which they put in their bowl
A little meat
A little fish
Each man anchored
To his dish
Each one feeling
He's done well
When answering
The dinner bell
The meal is earned
The supper's bought
And each man sitting there
Thought not
They'd any more
Than they deserved

It was a dark night,
and the man laid along the road,
and the moon wasn't there,
but it never shown so bright,
He dreamed a dream,
But the sun shone,
and woke him anyway.

When you sing
                                                                ­                           I cry

When as stars you shine
                                                                                    I wonder
                                                                ­                   and sigh
                                                            ­          
You live in the hollow
                         of my moon

               eating my shrooms

You glitter bright
                                   
               to my arms delight

Your comet eyes

Milky way smile

Star cluster hair

Nebulous wiles
                                                  
and cares

Have caught me intentionally
                                                   ­   unaware

You feel that you're falling, but
that's just your body rising to the skies.
See the sun shining upon the green fields
let the rain tickle you and
smile with your soul.

I know it hurts,
it does, of course,
after all
there's a war in your soul,
but, I tell you,
it's only your demons falling
the good in yourself is the one with the glory.

It's confusing, your legs are still weak
but slowly you'll forget about crawling
and start walking instead.

It takes time, you know
after living in the dark
it's hard to get used to the light
but you'll see
your eyes will stop hurting
and with the moon they'll shine
in the highest skies.

I know it's scary
and you only want to hide
you feel you're fading
but trust me when I tell you:
*You are not dying,
you're coming back to life.

i’m broken
the way every writer is
broken and the words fall
out of the cracks.