I know the best plan is to go to bed,
but waking up tomorrow just fills me with dread.
Time is an illusion, and now never ends,
but with indulgences, I can pretend
that tonight could end with some kind of punctuation.

Sum it all up within a single sentence.
Exclamations and question marks the X of the equation.
Narrated in a literary sense.
Life imitates art animating life inspired by metaphorical interpretations of unexplained phenomena.
I felt it all in a single wave of interconnected particles.

Pulled apart, but each piece responding to the other with common stimuli.
All of my atoms are secretly whispering to each other:
One day,
he is going to die.

Bloodied noses.
Smeared makeup.
Reckless abandon.
Don't care where I wake up.

I danced.
I think I lost my ****.
I'm sorry you had to see that.
I'm over it.

Where'd I leave my shirt?
When did I get so harried?
Why am I covered in dirt?
Who did we bury?

panic attack.
Panic Attack!
PANIC ATTACK!!!

Foamed at the mouth.
Spat out several teeth.
Are we humans,
or animal beings?!

*****.
Swallowed it . . .
came back.
PANIC ATTACK!!!

I ate all the prettiest flowers in your garden.
Sorry about that.
I wanted to digest beauty.
Turn it to ****.
How's my breath?

***** fingernails.
Tobacco stains.
Coughs and gasps.
Phantom pains.

Who did I what?
How am I where?
Did I just now ******* . . .
fall up the stairs?
Why did you go?
I'm still wrong here.

The wind howls
outside my bedroom window
shaking me
my heart; my soul

it screams
while you sit there
drinking sweet-smelling coffee
a baby boy in Africa
cries of hunger
and aching ribs.

while you are curled up
under warm and soft blankets
an old and lonely man
wanders the darkest streets
looking for warmth;
a home

while you hide there
surrounded by light and family
with an aura of ungratefulness
you are lost in the rays of your technologies
with a frown on your angelic face
when a weeping woman
shakes and prays
for her gone children to reach Heaven happily
but you dare forget God to a screen?

my house shakes
from Wind's agonizing words
and a streak of cold
trickles into my haven
along with the words
"what am I doing?"

somehow
my stiff legs reach
a window
and the arms in front of me
pull it open
to reveal no sound at all

where is the wind?
did he leave just as
he touched
my heart; my soul
making me waver?
or does a gust not howl ,
speak,
and isn't heard?

no
the wind was here
for how else did the once-twinkling snowflakes
suddenly freeze
and lose all of their beauty?

no one but Wind
would take the innocence
of such young and beautiful white specks
just as they landed
in this cold,
dark world

no one but Wind
would flare you with reality
enough to make you cry with obliviousness
for this wind; my Wind
he is the voice off all those
who have faced
life's stinging brutality;
him
instead of
hiding under covers
and whispering morbid lies
that
everything is okay

I've got the drinks, and I've got the will
I've got the time
And expired pills

I'll use them all
To get what I want
Wait, that's not right
I mean to deal with not getting what they want

A selfish brat, maybe
Tantrums like crazy
Pouting over nothing
Poor little baby

I'm good at self-loathing
I don't need your help
I've got plenty of sedatives;
One-way tickets to hell

It's where all my friends live
I'll fit right in
We perspire and make toasts to the worst of our sins

And laugh at the people
Who spent lives longing for choirs
Up there in white-walled mansions
Built of unfulfilled desires

I rest my head on your chest
Feeling blessed
Mellow and at peace
Your arms reminding me
There was never a need to worry
Your heart beat lulling
A sound of pure beauty
If I could have stayed for the rest of my days
I surely would have
Enraptured in that moment so far from the world
and the burdens of should have

I wasn't the type
to write everyday,
or even to get inspired easily.
but I was the type to fall
in love each day.

Not necessarily with people,

but with the most simple &
common of things. The
Smile of a stranger reminded
me that the hearts of man
were still kind.

The warmth of the sun, on my face
Each day, quietly whispered
that things would be okay

and finally, the shapes the
clouds took on an overcast day
insisted that there was
beauty in sadness, in solitude.

I honestly believe that I'll die
In awe of this un appreciated
world and that breaks my
Heart

People, you know, are like never-ending rainbows.
Nauseating colors and no pots of gold.

People, it seems, are like toxic streams.
Flowing endlessly with waters that you can't drink.

Like piles of so many strands of straw,
hiding golden pins underneath.
If I could find one I'd ***** my fingers and bleed
all over these troublesome docile stacks.
Light it on fire and turn them to ash.

People are like so many cigarettes in a pack -
always craving another even as your insides turn black.

And people, I swear,
they act like they care,
but when push comes to shove they all cower in fear.

So people, beware!
For I am not scared.
My strength comes from inside.
I'm self-aware!

And people (me too) know not what we do.
Spend our whole lives pursuing beliefs so untrue.

That's okay, people.
I forgive you.
And through your existential struggles,
I find you beautiful.