There’s a snake outside my house
It eats rats
It scares thieves
Tell me why I should **** it?
Maybe one day, it will come around
and swallow me whole along with its tail
"But today is not that day." or so I say
staring at the crimson sky,
as it slithers through the grass.

Yes, this may be the crime of the century,
the solution Watson is elementary.
He did it! You see that's not so very hard,
so be a dear chap and inform Scotland Yard.

I am bored with this detective endeavour,
I am tired of being so ****** clever.
Sod it! And eternal damnation to all
I'll just wait for the House of Usher to fall.

Why? You ask my reference to Mr Poe.
It's this apathy that is starting to grow.
I cannot be bothered with all this tripe,
so Watson please fetch my violin and pipe.

The apathy of my heart refuses to ask for love.
For it is as cold as a gravestone,
in front of which you have buried my bone.
I feel no sorrow, for I have done my part.
I tried my best to make a home out of you
but you kept tearing it down.
I lended my soul to you whenever you walked away,
hoping you to return it as safe and brave.
But whenever you came back home,
you brought it back so weary and grave..

I don’t know anymore, how to feel something again
Feels like I’m drifting, lost in outer space, to god knows where
Unanchored from everything, yet my chest is heavy, eyes are lifeless
Each day repeats itself, every conversation feels hollow, insincere

I bury myself in work, not to build, but to forget
Laughter doesn’t echo, smiles barely stretch, just motions
And if I disappear, would it really matter?
It’s not selfish, just silent. Space swallows sound, and maybe it swallows me too.

In this silence, I lay dormant—
I no longer expect anymore.
There’s no pull, no push, just a vast, empty stretch.
The stars hang motionless, indifferent
and I’m no different

Across arms length before myself,
Windowpane translucent amongst the light,
Glowing brightly against the sunrise,
Reflecting the flame within my might

Violet hues, vibrantly bleeding
Into a perceived heaven,
Nirvana nearly taunting,
Impartial only by the second

Cool blues amass,
Blanketing perception,
Ever expanding their reach,
Offering little connection

Dew below rises,
Heated by desire to be known,
Pulled by the gravity of ownership,
Kin only to a cyclone

Glass before myself,
Grazed by wary tears,
Uncertain of any legacy,
Panels become my mirror

Faltering into dusk,
Unsteadily steps lead on,
Dissension unmasked,
Laced starlight gazed upon

Have you ever tasted bittersweet?
Have you ever felt broken, incomplete?
Has life ever not been fair blue skies?
Have you always seen through complacent eyes?

Sometimes, comforting the grieving soul
It isn't easy, but you don't know
Seeing tears, you're repulsed and unsure
You'd rather argue than console

Sympathy was made for thee
Apathy thy familiarest treat
For your lukewarm meals I pity thee
Your have never tasted bittersweet.

mornings are slipping away in a blur,
patterns of certain habitual sadness.
words with no meaning,
disease with no cure.
porcelain dolls, both lifeless and ageless.
haunted by visions, hidden in mirrors,
wrapped in despair, victims and sinners,
chasing the rush of the next final turn.
decades are slipping away in a blur.

~
It feels like the anesthetic is wearing off

This circus of machines

From coin-operated hostility

To wholesale apathy refineries

They tell us it's winter down in the subdermal

They tell us the foundation has grown weak

Dislocation is an incoming storm

Mirrors are distorted screens

Placeholders really

In a city without children

Even the statues weep

Snow upon the ground that was once blood

Now an empire without heirs

Even the trees hate us
~