Ink, spreading through my soul, my life, as I scribble endlessly:

Don't tell me this is normal, having two
Opposite sides of myself.
Never understanding how I can believe
Two opposing things at the same time.

Kindness always, but I long to be cruel. Love, but sometimes I
Need to hate, to feel the fire burning in my soul. The
Origin of this duality remains unknown, regardless of
What intense measures I have taken to try to understand myself.

Why am I so split? Why do I feel like I
Have to mask constantly to hide my dark side, to pretend like I'm
Only strange, not truly crazy.

I wonder sometimes what's wrong with me.

Am I falling deeper and deeper into
Madness every day?

Ask anyone: I'm "too nice". I'm sweet and enthusiastic and
Naive. But that is only one part of me. Nobody knows that every
Year I am forced to question if I am truly as good as the
Mask I put on. Yes, I am good. But I am also evil. My mind is an
Ocean, both life and death all at once. Am I just overthinking? Will I
Regret all of this worry, or regret that I didn't
Enlighten myself to the wonders and horrors of my mind sooner?

I cannot tell you
The remedy to your emptiness,
But I can share with you
That of a treatment of mine.
It can be hearing of progress
On any front
In the forms of beautiful ideas
And new expressions,
The world of us humans.
Of newfound love
In many kinds of companionship
Whether by person or by animal,
Or even by plant.
Of new discovery
Which betters our understanding
About the fundamentals of the universe,
Like walking in the wild;
Cherishing all that is natural.

Being a humble observer
In the courts of law
Under honorable nature.

Just by being an animal.

hand trembling inside the pocket;
knuckles scraping against the outseam;
fingertips crawling into the deepest corner;
nails clawing at a ball of thread -
too stubborn for its own good;
wrist hair tugging at a rough patch;
fist holding onto itself;  
palm lines lacking conviction;
fingerprints blaming each other;
nerves adjusting to the pressure:  
pulsations full of dread;  

the pocket stays empty.

there’s an emptiness that
consumes the world,
like a newborn babe does her
mother’s *******:
it needs the force of life -
to become a weapon for death;
as it kills the light switch  
in the warehouse of hope;
as the sound of darkness
blinds even the bats;
as the echoes of piousness sink
to turn lawless mercenaries;
as the lantern flickers off
to the heaving of hedonism
that spawns in the void -
dark, and unconquerable.

until someone strikes a match.

Broken lives severed ties nothing
but lies losing all hope falling faster
into this darkness choking on the
reality of the chaos that screams
in her head.

Bright sun is shining
View from above warm eyes
Yet I still feel cold

The trees in winter:

no pigeons, no bullfinches --


the nests breaking down.

Supposed to be a special day,
But I think it's all the same.
Do you think that in any way,
You could light this dying flame?

A year has passed,
Yet I'm the same.
It's not my last,
Still in the frame.

A younger me is left behind,
Truly, I want to see a smile.
My soul, my heart is still so kind,
Yet I can't smile for a while.

I should be happy on this day,
Should be excited for these gifts.
But nothing now goes in my way,
Things have happened, many shifts.

I don't feel happy anymore,
I do not cry any longer.
I have no one to adore,
To help me grow stronger.

And yet, I live another day searching for my dream,
And yet, I live today still searching for ambition.
And yet, Still I want it, to quiet down this scream,
And yet, I manage here to stay, still searching for my mission.

I just hope to find my way,
To have the strength to live today.

I looked for you
in other people.

But,
you weren’t there.

So, I’ll wait,
still, in the space between us,
until you feel the same.