as a kid
there's nothing
like wasting away inside a tiny
room
sitting on the backrest
of the couch
looking out the window
and seeing her
tread through the rain

a red umbrella covers
her.

Mother

she's going back
to the liquor store

Shadow coveted by dancing demons dark
Yearning to reunite with hell
As quietness leaves its damning mark
Satan calls
He knows me well

Under the smooth canopy of night
While black air shelters evil
Red blinking eyes the solitary light
At depth of awakened upheaval

Do not fear the monsters plaguing sleep
Alive as you walk through the day
So you can ignore the wickedness deep
But there's no running away

I'm dying with these words,
When the world closes its doors.
Trying to find the life inside
to give and share,
to live a life.

Oh kindle life, give me hype.
To be productive as I ever was
The poet inside of me
has been dying as it ever has.

It comes and goes
Like as water flows.
It might be dry,
It might overflow.

Inspiration...
dying
while
also
craving
inside.

I thought I found it:
The answer to being human.
It came in a little heart-shaped box.
It told me to work hard and achieve my goals.
It told me to find people that love me,
and love them too.
It told me to get my head down early
and eat a colourful plate.
With all these boxes ticked,
I found glory in a greater life.
But still I found myself hurting.
I found brittle bones breaking.
I saw people bleed and break.
This, I found, is called being human.
To that, there is no cure.
But to treat life with a healthy smile,
and live out your days bringing smiles to others.
Now that, is being the most human of all.