Grabbing attention
Requires work
I neither like work
Nor impressing

i found myself
peering inside
a thin slit of mentality
of my endless mind
a dark, dreary place
no better than the physicality
of my brittle life
for there is nothing worth living for
as no faith has been founded
within my empty heart
peeking within
i cringe quickly
squeezing my eyes shut
so all i imagine
are the imprinted photographs
upon my black eyelids
each picture shifting
with every mental blink
like slow lightning
striking dead trees;
i open my eyes
to the warm breath
of a vermilion sunrise
only to find
i've been living
inside my brain
where i have hidden
the earth
in this mental attic

The young maiden,
with eyes the color of the green-blue sea,
porcelain skin,
and the face of an angel.

She had a hyacinth in her flaxen hair.
She is the hyacinth girl,
with beauty words can't describe,
and the grace of a princess.

Today somebody called me the hyacinth girl,
words nobody has ever said to me.
Glancing at the image in the mirror,
I didn't believe her words.

grotesque,
revolting,
and disappointing.
are all compliments that I have received generously.

hyacinths - however, I have never received.
"words with malicious intent, were never actually intended maliciously", they said.
they led me to believe,
that I could never be the hyacinth girl,
that I see deep inside of me.

Crossing the road
A large one
At that
Breathing in
The exhaust.

Walking up
The *****
It's the seventh month
Paper burning
Smoke evolving

Past a construction site
Dust and dirt
Drift past
The musty smell
Of gas and saw dust

Past a factory
Past a cement mixer
Past a ******* truck

Each step
Each second
My lung capacity
Gets
Smaller

Smaller

Smaller..

Something's stuck
Between my chest
And throat
Working its way
Up and
Out

Hold it in
Just a few meters
More...

Gulp in
Fresh air
In fully
To the bottom
Of your shoes

But still
Not enough
Makes its way in

starting is the hardest part
although ending is never easy,
i remain firm in my belief that starts are harder than finishes
how do i break my mind and move my hands?
teach me how to dance, teach me how to talk,
teach me how to walk again
move my legs for me and bend my fingers around the bottles
imprint them with your own personal brand,
and walk fast
push me ahead and tighten your fingers around my shoulders
i i  i i i i i i i i i i
i’m always talking about myself,
so tell me about yourself, if you will
i don’t want to know
but one never wants to know when they propose that question
they want to fill the long silence with something besides toe-tapping and nervous sips of cheap wine in a pretty bottle

and can you blame them?
long silences are like cinder blocks on the chest
the sooner you can crack them and mold them into something that passes as beautiful the better

and what other subject do we know better than ourselves?
let your words carve their way into the blocks
and find their caricature
they won’t reach my ears, or god forbid, my head
but that’s alright talk anyways
and i’ll blabber words i don’t understand and feel un-uniqe things

i’m not special, i’m just one in billions
infinity goes on and i blend right in

i can’t allow myself to make typos anymore, or say wrong things
because now i’m normal
normal normal normal no more repetition for me thanks

and i don’t want to be anymore i want to be ill and disgusting and pathetic

i’m a selfish ******* and i hate every bit of it

Maybe I was an ocean in a past life
Drifting in and out of hearts  
like old blood and clotting wounds alike
And maybe I sank memories at sea
And threw overboard emotions raw
That drifted to the beach

And caught in nets the pain, regret
Mourns over and is swept up back again
Failed attempts at revival
New swimmer drowned
in deep waters ****** him
below candescent surface thinly veiled
and out of oxygen

Warning signs on sandy beach
Hard to miss, at every bend
But enticement, loneliness led you in
Those vices, magnets, human virtue
Lead swimmers to my muddy waters
each and every time