i love this girl
but i used to love this other girl
and i used to think
i always would

but i don't

and it's an ugly thing
to not love someone anymore
so i won't love this girl
and it's still

an ugly thing

I can feel it already,
a steady stream of dopamine.
It's flowing right beneath your skin.
I can tell there will be no wading in here.
I don't know yet if this is harmony
or the calm quiet before the hurricane.
Or if I care one way or another.
Or which one of us is the storm.
I worry because I worry a lot more,
Smile a lot less.
These days I manufacture my happiness.
You do strange things to survive your demons.
Was easier to develop Stockholm, then slay them.
I'm still the same down on his luck kid.
Chasing away ghosts in the streets.
I'm on a cyclical self-sabotage trip.
It's not until you might get what you want,
that you wonder if you deserve it at all.
But it doesn't matter,
I'm already drunk on you.
It never feels the same twice.
But it's the best drug I know.
And truthfully,
You seem worth the overdose.

When was the last time you took a good look.
Sat in front of the mirror singing the hook,
Of some dark song you heard off a nook.
Which makes no sense because I thought it was a "book".
But who cares you're losing sight,
Of what everyone's talking about; the true "fight".
Starting to realize the futures not to bright,
For some? No for all, because even the biggest have to fall.
Like the leaves on the trees of fall,
This poem is gross and raw.
There's no skeleton to keep its reflection,
In the mirror you continue to look at your reflection
Is that your reflection?
No, because even the smallest have to fall.

Eyes reluctantly open.
Almost daylight.
Panicky cockroach scuttle
inside my skull.
A gutful of wasps
and the imagined ticking
of a very real clock.
Never been a morning person,
but this is something else.
Vague chest pains in the
watery sun.  An inconsequential
aching sort of roughly
where my heart should be.
*****, used fly paper sky and
every in-drawn breath saturated
with chemicals and
not really trying.

Considering the possibility
I might drop dead any second.
Shrug.
It seems unlikely that
the morning
will prove so
interesting.

Why does mankind do such evil things?

Some are just evil and enjoys the pleasure that hurting others may bring them.

Some are forced into evil acts against their very will

Other's say they do it for God they say it is his will

Many do it out of desperation

But it does not matter if you have a good reason or not evil is evil

Have you ever heard that the pathway to hell is paved with good intentions.

“If “you think you're doing something good by hurting others you're really doing something evil you're just too blind to see it. Poem by Shelby Kathleen Nightingale