still here
these stars
what might they look like
in places where i used to be
old homes and destinations
i always needed to depart
their shimmer
is it that much brighter?
without enough of me
to recognize
myself at night
when i look at the clouds to find
that stars are callous
unconcerned
about me or the yous i lost
no future now worth speaking of
just little lamps
and bland emotions
the usual, you might say

if solitude were virtue
would this for once not make me
a somebody to reckon with

If I **** myself
Does it make me a bad person?
Or does it make me a good person for realizing how bad the world is

I smoke until I can feel nothing
Because it is better than feeling everything
That's what it is. Everything
My heart is like my head
A thousand different thoughts, shifting and twisting
Changing, over and over again.
And I feel everything.
Always overwhelming, endless emotions
That never dissipate, but only build
My body is too small to hold all of this
It shouldn't be possible
I'm bone weary
Exhausted,
I'm stuck in a current and I can't get out
Wave after wave after wave and I can't catch my breath
The world is spinning above me
And nothing will still
I feel everything
So I smoke until I can feel nothing

For the truth, I've cut my ties with the collective

I find no relevance in this world

I am a mere onlooker, a silent seeker

Conforming myself to the likes of an outcast

Without any regret, however, I find support in my mind,

In a clairvoyant entity I have only surmised,

And a place I can only envision; the one in the sky

My soul belongs to something greater, but elsewhere

I intend to find my purpose, for the truth is all I need

However, as triumphant as an ultimate answer may be,

The world during the course of a search for meaning,

Is chilled and repetitive, constantly threatening sanity.

If there was an off switch to life
Some people wouldn't hesitate to press it

When people tie a noose
We have time to think about the consequences

I envy the first wave
Which hit those rocks
With all its might.

Unlike the feeble ones,
For they have helplessly  
Seen the horrendous sight

Of those poor vanquished,
Whose drops spatter their enemies
After fighting the good fight.

They fall back in sorrow,
Hampering their freshly nearing mates,
And altering their blue to white.

I know they're ill-fated,
Attempting to break but break,
And fade into the night.

Yet they'll soon be rising
Against those blocks
and cliffs in broad daylight.

Mine come in waves of zealous despair,
Determined to change the rock,
And to do what is right.