if i get the chance
to write a letter to say goodbye,
i’ll probably leave it blank
— don’t ask me why.

if i get the chance
to collect all our pictures
and put it in a collage,
i’ll probably not do it all
— again, don’t ask me why.

if i get the chance
to see you one last time:
hold you again and kiss you goodbye,
i’ll probably take it
but turn around at the last second
with my head down as i cry.

don’t ask me why.

don’t ask me why
i’ll waste all these chances
to say farewell,
because our love ended
and it didn’t end well.

don’t ask me why
i’ll give in to my sadness
when we could’ve had saved this
because
even if i tried to give my best
it’ll just end up the same;
a big old mess.

don’t ask me why
i’d rather leave than stay,
why i choose to walk away,
because all i’ll probably say is:
we tried
but love ran away.

.
The more I think, and reflect about life, the more it strikes how little we need to survive.
.
But then the question of my life itself baffles me still.
In the name of
Cups and Wands
and Swords and Pentacles.
How does one figure out
how one wants to ease into the world—
in what manner
what face
what costume
what identity
shall we assume
in this theatrical muse of mass-scale rehabilitation.
Searching,
for the right attire
in a tolerable personality.
To eventualize, to officiate, to become
A masterpiece—
by the hands of time
and the wheels of fortune.
So that we may be made worthy
Maybe, if you were dealt with luck.

Fortune's Fool—
How do we know which
is the correct way to go
sᴉ ǝɥʇ ʇɔǝɹɹoɔ ʎɐʍ oʇ oɓ·
in hindsight.
To hunt for a halo in the robes of glee
while you dwindle in time
Abject, at sea.

Cut the chase.
Bleed. Heal.
Await the haemorhage and its evanescence.
And when you approach the Great Finale,
Be free.
.
At any moment of time, we have one foot in the abyss while the other lapses into ecstasy.
.

Everything is a cluster **** of emotions, an endless stream of feels,  a torrent of agonizing thoughts, and I'm just drowning in my own doubts and getting lost in confusion. I find answers to problems and problems to answers
Searching for resolution and conclusion amidst this convoluted cluster **** of emotions

She's not made for this world
She deserves nothing but love
But she's already full of it—
She's gold-flowing!
Too soft to be touched,
Too fragile to be held,
And too transparent to be seen.
Her self-love is doubtful
Though she's overflowing with love,
She care too much
For the wrong people
Only if she could see
What she's made of
Only if I could make her see
What her worth is
She could devour her remorse and escape,
Runaway and save herself from this unworthy world
Even if it means not being with me

Wanna drink in the park,
But the ******* mosquitos...
Eaten alive and I can't stand the heat
                        so
I turn down the bed
and I wait for December.
Shaking head
                   aching neck.
I'll thank you to remember
              I've always been one
              for walking in snow,
          ******* clenching this jaw
     while I'm chomping down crow--
--Don't wanna drink in the park
              'til it's really ******* cold.

And you...
          got no reasons to lie
          or axes for grinding.
           Just summery eyes,
          blind to punchlines
                  but finding
                      me out,

       With my rank Autumn breath,
                        I'll try...
       try to settle on Spring one time.

Are you
         dwelling today
                   on concepts
of verbal grenades or clever plays. Lost this bet.
           Cut off my sleeves, no ace.
Call me in the morning, or could play it safe.
     Summer's gold, but will you freeze
                        if I don't stay?

               I'll curse my sweating
                       shakes away.

Wanna sit in the dark,
hash it out with my ego...
Barely awake, I can no longer speak
                        so
I'm glued to my bed.
I can't wait for December.
Pounding skull,
                 crane my neck--
Try once more to remember
              I've always been one
               for sleeping alone,
          turning, tossing in sheets,
          spitting crow back at cold.
--Just wanna drink in the dark
           'til I'm really ******* old.


    Were there...
          really stories to tell?
     or just axes for grinding?
           Or summery eyes,
          sneering punchlines
                  frowns sliding
                    cleats first?    

    
        With brittle Winter hopes,
                        I'll try...
     try to settle on Spring--No dice.

And I'm
         dwelling today
                   on concepts
   of phantom pains and severance pay. Taking bets?
               Fixing to lose both legs.
Take two in the morning, stay awake all day.
     You stay gold. I guess I'll stay
                     the **** away.

I used to dream but now I know
Dreams are just ignorant nightmares
Just ideas with nowhere to go
And no one who really cares

I want to have hope
I wish for a light
But depression says, "nope"
I'm left in the darkness of night

I cry alone
So no one hears
I'm on my own
To face my fears

Suffer in silence
Let no one see
This became my guidance
And then my reality

Wait... Don't leave, please; come back to me
I've been getting into drugs and other things
I am fearful for my own well being...
But these actions I am taking hold of
Keep my mind off from what's truly going on,
I'm not sure that I'll ever really stop...