Off the top of my head
When ever I think back all I see is dread
Mindlessly roaming the days
Passing the time as i slowly fade
Into the night I dissapear
Never seen to been seen
As if I was ever seen in the first place
I kept a list of things that you dread and like
Colored the first black, the other white.
Back then, I only know one to cite
Now, it has a ninety-nine items in plain sight.
Wrote the 100th note after the talk yesterday
My name is finally on it but the color is gray.
After our confrontation, it turned out I am neither.
We die before our own eyes;
Our blood paint crimson the fields
Lords left at the mercy of flies
On beds of broken swords and shattered shields.
The image of eternity before my eyes
I dread my terminal breath
The wind alone hears my aphonic cries
Of how ill-prepared I am for death.
R. A. Tyndall
I’m trying to write
That’s not about :
- me; or
Spent the whole night in my head
Did a little cleaning
Perhaps I should dream instead
and stop trying to figuring out living
but my eyes get lighter with dread
If I ever sleep, please be eternal rest
A locked up jaw
Somewhere in between a good day and a bad tomorrow
when you're having fun.
when you're bored.
when we're together.
when I'm dreaming.
when I'm high.
but tell me -
where does it go when I sit in bed,
everything and yet nothing at all?
t i m e
collapsed in on itself like a
from the heights of mania
to the abyss of d e s p a i r,
a waterfall! of moments wasted -
and I'm lost in the current, drowning,
until my alarm goes off