The door in my mind
Has been locked for a very long time;
Probably from the smoke drifting
From the alter I've built to my misgivings

There are tally marks on my stomach
Counting how many times I just stopped
Caring,
And I feel my chest turn to stone
With every breath.

Sometimes I wonder what the fear
Of a storm at sea feels like,
And if it's anything similar
To the paralysis I feel when
Someone is screaming.

There are days when I wish
I could speak in color.

When a shiver goes down my spine,
I wonder what you're saying about
Me.

Maybe life was just an accident God made
When playing with dolls

Sometimes I wish everything made sense,
And that my mind wasn't so faceted
And tangled like string
But maybe Everything is a jigsaw puzzle
With missing pieces.

Maybe we're not supposed to understand.

Or maybe there's not anything we're supposed
To do.
Maybe life is screaming and color and a storm
At sea.

Maybe God is still playing with dolls.

The hints of a razor gleam
creeping up from behind
shivers begin to scream
a thought undefined.

Crystalline destruction manifests
in shards of failed dreams
circulation and cells cease
I am dumber today.

Clogging and fogging the mind
promises cheat their way into lies
when depression becomes a way of life
serenity is found at the end of the line.

Escaping the cavity
in trails of shame
in vigour and madness
incapable of sadness.

Black hole eyes
cannot see the coming despair
the next morning impairs
certainty is a lie.

Senses start to fail
iron will turns frail
the devil’s sugar and salt
must never be taken so lightly.

Subtle and methodical
killing what makes you, you
another round for old time’s sake,
and you’re stuck to it like glue.