envy is a strange thing
i scrolled through
the life of a boy
i had never known,
watched the love
pour over him
like flowers on a grave,
watched the silence
turn to screams
of “i miss you”
& “why did you leave?”

& i thought,
what would they say
about me?
would their silence
finally break?
would their love
finally bloom?

but then i realized—
he is not here
to feel it,
to hear it,
to carry it.
& i—
i am still here.
& if i am still here,
there is still time
to teach them
how to love me
while i am alive.

—stay, even if the love feels quiet.

How many,
Many more parties.
Before the floor gives out,
From underneath my feet.
How many more suits,
And conversation pieces.
Before the weight of the jewels,
Drags me under earth.
I'm sick of waltzing,
My feet are tired.
Bring me back home,
I don't want to be here anymore.

I beg and churn and oft dream,
I crave and long from all in my being,
All that is scattered all that is seen,
All that is bound to decay,
All to stumble back in your way,
Frivolous being am I to sight,
Everything I am doesn't fit right,
18 years to build this mould,
That replicates what is foretold,
A venture in this soul,
Had me realise it is dead,has no goal,

I am amazed more
and more
how much the mind can be stuck
in slavery
to thoughts.

I am less afraid of people
who commit suicide.
Suffering is so intense.
It makes me think of how
low our minds can take us
down to where
we feel we
might drown.  

No one, not one person
is to blame for
suicide.
There should be no anger,
no shame.
Be real in life.
Do not shelter shame
as if it is a friend,
a payback,
or a way of life.

Shame is as deep as
******
is the devil.
Deep in an inkwell
Black tar stuck in
the pits searching
for free skies
for air
the soul is not for sell.

And it can come to this.....

Dead Enders

Places we have been to
Places we compare to
Travel light-years
In circles around us
Overtime
Around and around we go
Spiraling through the
self-disparaging
Thoughts we hack ourselves into.

Until,  Sense-less
Dead enders.
So, unthread,
Un  thread,
Un      thread.
Unwind
Before your prospects
Leave this space.

Around and around
we go
Transcenders
Looking out, looking up
and
Down
Sinking
Please me here
Take from there
Give to him always
Without a dare
Sunk and done
Dead end right here.

The Smiling Man smiles day after day
Hardly getting any sleep
When night falls in his bed he'll lay
And he then begins to weep

Most days there's no life in his eyes.
No words on his tongue.
No thoughts in his mind.
No breath in his lungs.

He is but a mere carcass
Of what once was
His body is cold and lifeless
Flies swarm around him in an annoying buzz

His limbs are stiff
And so is his face
That smile still on his lips
His body stuck in one place

But when the sun falls
He begins to cry
His sobs echo through the halls
As he questions "Why?"

For despite his smile
He is not happy
Instead he feels vile
And his vision is blurry

The Smiling Man smiles day after day
Perhaps it is for the best
For it must always be this way
Even after his inevitable death

Emily, Emily, called back,
But not set free,
By those who worship
and study thee!

Summers see the young ones
Gather on your lonely grave.
Kissing with immortal tongues,
To desire they are slaves;

But you forgive them blithely,
tell them to proceed,
In your name and memory,
The one thing you knew not was greed.

-Sharon Talbot

I am trapped,
Trapped in a delusion,
A mirage of what once was,
Where shadows dance in the corners,
And echoes of laughter fade into silence.

There is no one;
I am left alone,
A solitary figure in a landscape of memories,
The nights look haunted,
Cloaked in a shroud of darkness,
Whispering secrets of the unseen.

Day whispers a cry,
A cry of a dead man within my heart,
A heartbeat that falters,
Lost in the labyrinth of my thoughts,
I am a prisoner,
Who has done no crime,
Yet here I languish,
Bound by invisible chains.

I want to move,
But can’t feel my feet,
I want to talk,
But silence wraps around me,
I want to cry,
But has no reason
I want to laugh,
Laugh louder again!
Again no reason.

I am a ghost lost in my stories,
Where I am dead,
Yet still feel the pain,
The pain of my dreams,
And the people I left behind.

I want to return,
Return back to them,
But I’ve lost the way that takes me to them,
The path obscured by the fog of regret,
I am stuck,
Stuck in this dream,
A wisp of a thought,
A fleeting shadow.

I want someone to wake me up,
To pull me from this slumber,
I want to get out of the character,
Shed this skin that no longer fits,
I want to get out of the cell
Which has no wall,
A prison of my own making,
Where freedom is a whisper,
And hope flickers like a dying flame.

Silent ruins stand,
Ghosts of a lost world whisper,
Dust cloaks barren dreams.