A tiny Cat came to me in my sleep,
Told me a Mouse was haunting her,
She said the Mouse was made of wolves,
His screams were devouring her fear.

A little Cat is haunted by a Mouse,
He's smaller in size,
But bigger in words.

She was afraid of a Mouse,
Because the Mouse told her she was not a Cat,
She is a Mouse,
He said,
She is a disgrace.

The little Cat came to me in my sleep,
Told me she met a ******* Cat,
The ******* Cat told her to run,
But she ate the Mouse instead.

everyone speaks of going to heaven
"may his soul rest in peace"
acting as if they don't realize
he chose this for himself
conciously decided to take his life
he did not grow wings and fly away
his coffin is not empty
it has a body
and that body has rope marks
around the neck
his hands are cold
his eyes are shut
his organs are slowly rotting away
it is not beautiful
he is not an angel
he is the dead remains
of what once was
and all those saying
"he is in a better place"
have absolutely no proof of their statement
and neither did he,
all he knew was
that no matter what awaited him in the afterlife,
it could be no worse than the life he was living right now
it was not an accident
he did not fall,
he jumped
he chose to die
he chose to die this way
because the pain of death
& the pain of the dead
was nothing in comparison to the pain of life & the living
because it was easier
to hang himself from the hook on the ceiling
than to wake up the next morning
and look at himself in the mirror
he could not run from life
unless he was running towards death
so he chose
to win the race
first place
*once and for all

Who is to say that "you" is you and "I" is me? Who is to say every penny thrown in a well is to wish for something you don't already have.

I have three empty bullet cases in my pocket and a funny reason for each of them being there.

You look out the window and discover a body floating face down in your pool except you don't have a pool and the body is you. It's me. It's everything that never was.

I am a punch line in search of a set up.

What is it like under your bed? Have I become the monster that lives under it?

Just the brain
telling tales
we are helpless
to resist.

  ~mce

She made me feel the void
were my lungs can’t find my chest.

You ******* peach-lined sky!

The intensity in those eyes—
it smells like morning dew and art.
Nefarious watercolor concoction
of beauty from the inside
(sigh).
Feels like a stroke
because it turned my heart
into a bully of its own feelings.