I am greedy in my self-loathing
And euphoric in my bliss

I am a half empty half full
Glass of bad habits

I stand until my knees give out
Because it all hurts until it doesn’t

And then, it hurts some more

I used to hide my scars, forever ashamed by the marks covering my skin. From my wrists to my thighs, fading little white lines. Starring at them now like my skin is a piece of paper waiting for an author to mark me with his words. I don’t hide my scars anymore, for they have created a place to write poetry.

What is it that you fear so much that you have to burry it away into the darkness of the unconscious?

Have you ever thought about your life without the demanding concept of time? Chances are you probably can’t, one of the very first things we learn is how to tell time. You know the year, the month, the day of week, right down to the time of day. You have tiny clocks on your wrists, some hung on your walls, there’s one on your screen and even your car. It’s funny how man is so dependent on time. Surrounding ourselves with a paralyzing concept that only man endures. When all around us in nature time is simply ignored, the birds are  not late, and wolves don’t fret over the passing of birthdays. See the world around us lives free while man suffers from the fear of time running out.