It's gone.
All of me.
No voice. No motions. No thoughts. No conversation.
It's packed and shipped away.
I'm screaming to the blank faces that circle around me.
But their words are too vibrant to recognize my echo.
I'm gone to sea with no plan to return.
Push me away.
I want it.
I need it.
I crave to be gone.
All of me.
Let silence consume the world that bind my feet to this rotted soil.
I want it.

False heroism and modern mythology
Have constructed a malignant effigy
Of ourselves for our future
An unforeseen result, unforetold in scriptures

What is to come,
Will surely cause harm
All of our deeds
Will soon make this flesh bleed

Environmental neglect
Only does reflect
All these actions done by us to
Our own lives and future
What is said in all scriptures

But who's to care?

False patriotism and political plots
Dividing and devouring
All mankind and their morals
This is what man does in form of plural
Against nature they race with rifles

Sympathetic man is reduced
To extinction with his feelings induced
By hypocritical acts produced
In support of his wanton he's adduced
And his sorrows, overproduced.

Tempest raging in my soul
was quieted down
by the autumnal numbness

In the dead of night inside a house on the corner of a street,
I could hear an ice cream truck in the outside world
While inside the house seemed like a world of sadness
With people mourning
And tears being shed
And thoughts being whispered.
And though I should have been in the same depressed state as everyone else,
The only thing passing through my mind was,
“Why is the ice cream man selling ice cream at this late hour?”

its a cigarette singeing the fingertips
sirens crying to a deaf ear
a hammer smashed against necrotic flesh

can’t you feel that?


                                                      you are a wind that rails against the moon:
                                                                                    thousands of miles away
                                                                  she cannot hear and cannot feel you
                                                                                she can see but never touch

                                                    how do i feel after so much disaster?
                                                                         what world could we have?
                                                                                              what could we be?


old callouses thicken and spread
but the blood inside is dead
and the feeling fades
pressing again draws no special ache

bruises blooming like
lies from your lips like
nightshade in the dark

tell me the truth that i might feel the wind
the burn, the pain, the blood.
chip off the callouses and expose my skin
melt my heart to feel your infirmity

                                                    or else entomb me in the stone
                                                                                            of my own making.

Where is the poem,
the one I culdn't feel?
Escaped, like a flock of gulls
when all that's left is shells.
The mussels gone
or rotted
by heavy salty air;
exposed like a heart
to a fisherman
who never eats his catch
but hasn't the sense
to toss it in the water.
I am a shell,
with nothing succulent
to share.

Our lives move in waves of unimaginable excitement and waves of crippling boredom. Long rivers of suffocating incompetence leading into a waterfall of rapid evolution. Each day rides on the back of a revolving barrel of emotions. No matter how much we learn, how hard we try, how many years we put under our feet, we will never find a path of permanent confidence, happiness or success. Perfection is a mirage luring us deeper into an endless desert. Don’t chase it. Even if you believe with all of your heart, in your bones deep inside—it isn’t real. It never will be, and never was. Our lives move in waves. ride them with style. Don’t sit there, letting them hit you. Don’t drown in apathy. Ride them all. Each time you will fall, but you can’t ride forever. It isn’t up to you. The ocean isn’t yours. But so long as you have a life, you have a choice to use it.

Lobotomize me
Make me dumb
Take my voice away
So I’ll never hurt again
The less I speak
The more I feel apathy
Its in trying to connect
That I feel distant
No point trying
To clear these gaps

Lobotomize me
Out of necessity
So I won’t lose any more
Can’t be happy
Can’t be sad

Lobotomize me
So my desires will fade
And I’ll be left drooling at my bedside
While the beasts congregate around me
Ripping my flesh
Replacing my memories with their own

Lobotomize me
So I can be happy not being the protagonist