I'm scared of the future
And how I'll be
Fragile
Depressed
Filled with anxiety
Will I have a handle on my life
Or will the wheels fall off?
And I'm left to die
Will my feelings for change
Do they remain?
Does love exists in my dictionary
Or is it replaced with hate?
Do I see clearly?
Or is it all a blur?
Do my friends stick by me?
Do I sit in the house alone?
Do I grow old and forget my nae?
Or does the noose come to claim me?
Am I happy or sad?
Do I have kids?
Am I lost in my imaginations
Or living them instead?

Tell me
   When
       Did the lines
          Between
             My nightmares
                 And
                    This reality
                          Blur
                               And
                                   *Break

My plants are dying
I have lost my perception of time
It moves like the water I keep forgetting when to give them

Sometimes I feel myself staring into the darkness
And I can’t remember the last time I blinked
Or how long I’ve been there

I can’t answer the simple question of what I’ve been doing all day
Because I can’t remember if what happened,
Happened today or if it happened at all

I can’t tell my imagination from reality
I don’t know what is really happening
And what is just a dream

So, I think my plants will keep dying
But maybe some of them
Will even outlive me

they see him running on sunbeams in the early morning. stars are tied to his toes and they rattle behind him like chains, but he has never felt so liberated. there was a time when atoms were exploding in his lungs and he could not breathe, colors would fly behind his eyes and he could not see. his skin was numb from too many suns burning beneath the surface. he used to curse the morning; now he holds it in his hands and sprinkles it down upon us.

he still sees himself as human, is that a surprise? though he is stardust and the remains of energy, he is flesh and blood first. he came from the womb, not from the sky. he knew his hands before he knew his wings; he knew his words before he knew his magic. he dances with the snow on winter nights only to melt it away in the day. he drinks golden wine, it’s gods ichor he sips. he twirls his curls around his fingers and whistles tunes only the bluebirds understand. he runs barefoot through forests and though his feet may bleed, he brings the sunlight with him and that’s all he needs. he trips on skies and sips waterfalls, throws his wishes into wells. he can make miracles happen. what being in the world would want to make such magic angry?

a thousand suns have tried before, to hold him in their burning grasp. there is no force known to us that can contain him where they lack.

Give me that liquid fire,
which burns my throat
and blurs the edges of my existence.

I am fading again
Back into grey
Into the background
Peripheral vision
        Movie extra blur
I'm hidden
               So well I can't even see me
Camouflaged
     By all the carnage
                       who's to say
              *how long I'll be gone
       or what will remain when I
                       crawl back  into  *focus

The spilled ink stained
All over the circular walls in the halls
Of my guttered mind
Reaching into the crevices
Of my brain, I strain
To see the colors
Indistinguishable to my eyes
I've become blind
Nothing is clear anymore
The mixture muddied and incoherent
I'm drowning in the thickness of it all