as i drink the sadness
of the stars
gulp it down
to the lees
i wonder
what's a greater agony
going to bed with the crushing
burden of your own existence
or
the deafening echo of the universe
saying that you don't matter

Spasming in life’s web,
Clustering under eight legged dreads,
Watching some rise from its smother,
But only for short pathetic seconds.

I watch many downfalls,
Idle in wait for my own,
Seizuring with a horrible burden,
Fortune telling with no end fortune.

All mere blinded mirrors laying in wait,
Distorting the spidery figure differently,
Mine reflects its harsh fangs and nature,
Others reflects admiration towards the creator.

The web a complex beauty,
But I can’t claim cruelty home,
The ripples of intertwined death,
Some by father...foe...or friend.

The inhumane humanity,
Puppets and the almighty player,
Cloud me from things called prayer,
For that hope must be alive and well.

I’m just waiting for my bones to decay,
Peace in nothingness or so you claim flames,
Free from the *******
And all that it stands for.

I’m an unholy ghost.

You're so beautiful
When your cheeks are blushing red
When you look directly in my eyes
With an expression that can't be read
And look where all of this has led
You're lying in my bed, just like I always
pictured in my head.
Your body shivers with excitement
Though your tears are screaming "dread"
Maybe its the breeze you feel, the
windy chill, from hiding in this shed
Or is your body breaking down
It's been three whole days since you've been fed
I had to punish you somehow
The other day you almost fled
now I feel misled, you turn down my love
And run instead
You cry all night, you wont eat bread
You shout and fight and hit your head
against the frame of this old bed.
if only you listened to
Every word I said
There'd be less pain
It's better now if this goes my way
So just play dead

Disaster is no whisper today
It is roaring in both ears
And the onslaught won’t let up
Won’t let go
In spite of my squirming
My flailing
It won’t let go!
And it has a hold of my throat
And a hold of my screams
—I can’t even scream!
Its grip grows tighter
When I let out a breath
I am choking
And crying
Wishing I could drown myself in my tears
But it laps them up like honey
Every drop a precious jewel to add to its hoard
My swords are shattered and tarnished by its poison
Useless against this vile beast
I’m just another victim
Dying in a lair
Where no sound escapes
An echo chamber of desolation
A labyrinth of death
That I’ve lost my soul to.

I am overcome with a sense of dread
An honest feeling I have never felt
It lingers and it strays
But it always comes to me
In a moment of clarity
I grabbed it
To set it free

If I weren’t so caught in the act
Of thinking what I should do next
I might have lived differently
I might have sounded out a spontaneous
Yes

To the question of taking leaps
Swimming in the seas
Where no feelings had to be hurt
To be seen

I could’ve been an addict
Or a Michelin chef
I could have fallen for sporadics
Been a sycophant for antics

But remembering fake days
Is what I live for now
Not as sad as it seems
I just wish I had followed
A better dream

how can some thing
so clean
be so *****

that it floods our fears
wakes up our dead
breaks down our minds
and replaces it with dread

a dread that’s but fuel
to sate the hungry
the desperately numb
but worth no money

for we scrub
and scrub

until the skin
peels off our flesh

until the clocks
lose their minute hands

until the ground
quivers to no more

until the clouds
trap too much in

until the lines
turn into just words

until the earth
is just fine dirt

but we can wait
patiently
even with such hurt

disappointed and embarrassed,
my heart is heavy.

you make me sad...
not because of who you are,
but because of who i imagined you to be.

I'd see that face that savaged nights
Picasso’s artful effigy scowls
on plate glass windows
high rise grimaces
mock

Is this for real, for he's sailed on
beyond deep seas to places wild
do clouds stoop down to part
stop searching vapid
drive

Or is this his iconic stride
dark overcoat pulled high
winds snatching imprints
left behind in harried
haste