Wind-
portrays freedom;
always moving, flowing continuously,
mixture of dreams colourless;
humans touching the rattling wind,
characters removed-
trees frolicking the scintillating skies,
visionary speaking!
liberty.

REFLECT:

Liberty.
speaking visionary!
skies scintillating the frolicking trees,
removed characters-
wind rattling the touching humans,
colourless dreams of mixture;
continuously flowing, moving always,
freedom portrays;
wind

The clouds drop water
The moon pulls the waves
The sun burns hotter
And life turns into graves
The birds fly higher
The fish swim low
The earth spins without care
Of who will come and who will go

Ashes to ashes,
dust to dust.
When answers are hidden,
what can you trust.
Wind to wind,
dusk to dawn.
There for a moment,
But suddenly gone.
Fire to fire,
Beginning and end.
Go through the cycle,
and never ascend.
Life to life,
it's always the same.
This world is unchanging,
Except for the name.

Why am I trapped on this never ending cycle,
A cycle full of routine,
Unhappy screams,

Why am I forced to continue this cycle?
A cycle that has no end,
Where I can't defend...myself

How can I get out?
Well, only if you knew the definition,

Cycle (n.,)
a series of events that are regularly repeated in the same order.

And there you have it,
This will be on repeat.... Regularly
Everyday.
This is a never ending cycle

a sip of yesterday morning's coffee reminds me of you
cold and bitter and "what else would you expect"; you'd say
i keep drinking, knowing i could and should drink something better
but i don't, i can't, and i won't
this is life how i choose to make it;
an endless cycle of coffee I'll never drink when I'm supposed to, but will always finish

i can't make myself happy
when i can't get off this chair
too anxious to stop crying
silently hating my stare

my face is so ****** ugly
i'm shaking, i'm trying to stop
nothing could ever console me
this dark and familiar spot

depression that grabs me is all too familiar
i'm crippled and tired, too tired to care

a few pills will save me from cutting my body
again and again i'll make myself sleep
it's always been there, this darkness and crying
but now i know that it's better to sleep

because it escalates to rage and seeing spots
and punching holes in the wall and filling holes from inside with
alcohol and cigarettes and petting my pride

my egotistical mind that thinks that if i look good
at least i have that, and that's one thing i have

so i spend hours in front of the mirror painting my face and doing my hair and ******* hating my face, my ****** stare

if i look long enough i see myself change and no longer am i fragile, i'm filling that space
where i can't hurt i  just harm and push everyone away
it's harder to ache and to look at my face
than it is to get cold and harder to touch and harder to shove

and i can't replace my face with anyone else's
so i better make it perfect
keep on going and try to calm down
keep myself busy and play music loud

so typical.
it's a cycle.
i'm trying.
still breathing.