I am all out of inspiration, my life a desolate hell.

I don't feel well, on a precipice might just end all my relations.

Desperation to make it cease, before I too am just a shell.

Maybe he fell, or maybe he was pushed by the temptation.




Either way, he knew something... A secret.

Couldn't tell anyone, there was no speaking.

Seeking an easier way to explain. Possibly with feelings?

Pealing faces away, shouldn't do any harm.




Never existed? That's wishful thinking.

A fistful of change, loaded and ready to meet the misfit's mesure.

Yet the virus was still there, slinking towards its next victim.

Another, and another, and yet another. It goes on forever and forever. No forgetting.

My mentality focuses on the time
Unassumed the undefined
Leave behind the unconscious mind
Therefore malevolent

For when compassion comes around
Don't feel solicitude

"Maybe I'm not cut out for this,"
I said, knowing he knew what I meant.

"I've never tried harder at anything else--"
His eyes were skeptical.

"Well, I mean, I'm trying, right?"
his eyes remained unsatisfied.

"It's better than you ever do,"
I showed my teeth
to his equal glare.

The boy in the mirror lifted a tired eyebrow
and laughed, in spite of himself.

"Have I made a habit of talking to myself?"
I asked, grinning.

"I listen better than anyone,"
he replied.

On the bedside she see's
the bottle responsible
for keeping her big brother
the way he was before

the 'happy bottle' she named it
and hoped that eventually
big brother will no longer need it
and they could really live happily

But big brother said
he hates the happy bottle
and that when he uses it
it hurts

she grew to hate the happy bottle
because she realized
in her brothers eyes
he was only numbed

Taking the happy bottle
she breaks it
hoping to give her big brother
his happiness back