i ran,
i cried,
again,
i lied.

i did everything i could,
just to feel alive.

Nothing is not black
It has no colour.
The blackness of space is black
But nothing is nothing.
No light or dark,
No taste or smell
Or touch.

Nothing cannot know it is nothing
No more than we can know
When we are gone.

Our transient existence is a blessing
Here on Earth, beneath the Sun.
Sunshine shining, blindingly bright
Upon the foliage
Of Paradise bathed in light.

Paul Butters

Tell me about
your bicycle lights,
do they shine?
like embers in the
dark of night
or are they faded?
like far away stars
who omit some days
that they are there.
forget your bike.
I'll come find you.

What can we do
It hurts when we
Lie, it hurts when we smile
Let me go

Yours is the smile i want to see
Our hearts once ruled what has been
Usurped by stone

Live, die
Eat, starve
True, false

My heart is now the
Enemy

Death
Is now my friend
Everything that once was, no longer is. Or is it
?

I woke up today
and I felt
extremely
out of place.

I looked around
and everything was the same,
leading me to believe
that I was out of my mind.

but I knew I wasn't.

I walked around my home slowly,
fingers gliding across the newly painted walls
and clasping onto frozen metal of door handles,
then drumming against the
darkened mahogany of the kitchen table
trying to figure out
what was missing.

What was missing?

I was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My wallet was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My coat was there,
so that wasn't missing.

My car was outside,
so that wasn't missing.

My keys were by the door,
so that wasn't missing.

I looked again.

Your keys weren't there,
so that was missing.

Your car wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your coat wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Your wallet wasn't there,
so that was missing.

Ah, yes.
That's right.

You.

It was you.

You were missing.

It's funny, because every morning
I wake up feeling
extremely
out of place.

And every morning, I look around
and see that everything is the same,
leading me to believe
that I'm out of my mind.

And every morning, I tell myself
that I'm not.

But I know I am.

Because every morning, I walk around my home,
looking for you.

Even though I know
that you're what's missing.

Maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're what's missing.

Better yet, maybe I should just
leave some notes around the house
reminding myself
that you're never coming back.

I hate how empty I am
because I thought
I had the universe inside of me

but I cried all the black holes out of my veins

the volcanoes inside of my rib cage erupted when you told me you loved me but didn't want me and
the lava flooded out, burning my skin alive and hardened me until I
couldn't close my eyes to sleep

I had stars in my brain
shining bright
but I've burned them all
with all the drugs I've been taking
just to burn you out of my mind

the garden growing at the bottom of my stomach is dead because it seems to be that I can't water them with alcohol  

I had the sun above my head always following me but it's been covered by the gray clouds with no rain making my thoughts turn into darkness

I had the planets at the tip of my tongue but you took them all away with you

leaving me with just myself

I was everything
and then I met you
and you were everything

but now you're gone with all of me
and now I can't find myself in this universe that I thought once was all mine

j.f

You had slowly sunk your knife up to its hilt into his chest, piercing it into half. You saw his life slowly evaporate from his eyes. But you still heard his heart's pump which had grew old, crumpled and soon would be silent. You had felt his life trembling through the knife in your hand. It had almost overcame you for time being, the gentleness of being at the center of act of guilty. Guilty of being humane less. Then again it started flowing in your veins, but this time in much vigor, fearful and drearily. This largely ephemeral fear went away when you started plumping the knife several time with out being aware of him. It was like cutting butter with no resistance at all. While doing so you had went to floor with him to finish him. His eyes was remain wide open, you got the impression that he was imploring you not to harm him but to do right thing.*

You heard a hazy voice, "Thank you."