It just feels
Like I should be feeling
More, dealing
With moving on.
I look upon
The past six years;
Joys regrets fears
Run through my mind
But I find
That nothing truly stands out
About
My emotions, nothing
Seems to be stabbing
Into my heart like I thought
It was but did not.
Is it wrong
To not feel much
About where I’ve been for so long?
Because deep down I know such
Thoughts will come to light
Soon; bright
And white
They will be
(Yet rendering my head and heart
Ever so dark).
How long will it take for me
To see
The pictures that should be
Running through my head,
But are choosing to hide instead?

A bad day away
From the end of things,
Cause not a person stays.

And everything remains the same,

Despite all the change.

An hour to twelve,
When the clock strikes.
I burn one down.

And the match reminds me of hell;

Of dark depths, lit by scorching light.

Most deepest of desires, and precious hopes
We are fond of holding you close,
Fearful we will share our thoughts

And be lost to ourselves

To understand, what we know we never can

When I think of life,
I see an empty canvas ready to be painted upon,
or open blank pages that are waiting to be written on.
A baby is born, their first words in a book say;
"where am I?"
"what is this world"
"this is so cool"
or some babies have an anxiety
"bring me back into mothers womb?"
"I' am scared, what is this?"
But as you say, they do not know how to speak our language, maybe not by tongue but in their little cubicle minds...they have a language we once understood then only time could tell....
When I think of life,
I see empty pages and canvases waiting to be spilled onto,
but some art dusty and rusty, gone through 0-100 and have no space left but to die and leave it to the rest, because all those pages have been fulfilled.
Life carries on, into the next barrier of a woman's womb...and that is truly where the first page starts, or the first speck of paint draws...into the ****** of a fruitful woman most babies will call their mother.

I feel such terrible distress
Like I lost something as precious
As my purpose.
All the screams and darkness
Swooping over me and drowning my senses
Fear is senseless
And reckless.
Fear is helpless
So painful it’s painless.
So dark
It blinds me with its brightness.

This world goes in circles
And repeats cycles
And I’m stuck in the middle
As I cry in my comfortable cradle
Because I am blessed to point out that
my only curse
Is having to feel
And live a life so real
It haunts me in my sleep
And seeps into my dreams.
And buries me in a grave.

Why do I cry for the future?
The present is a cloud
And fate is the wind
And I try to find my silhouette
Reflected within.

I revel in this collective fearful consciousness.
I revel in this confused toxicity and if this isn’t telling
Then I should be yelling.

Pattering rain shattering on grey road
With grisly green umbrella she troad
In a black attire looking ghostly white
Her red woeful eyes sending fearful jilt.

Watery moon painting yellowish lips
Frozen fear dancing on pink finger tips
Her flowing hair sweeping pain of ashes
An orange lamp blinking passing wishes.

Violet blooms falling from whining trees
Covering brown earth - a graveyard in pleas
Ah nature, dull and dreary, standing still
Her fervid eloquence under blue spill.

My canary cage cried a fearful moan
While eyes shifted, into thin air she gone.

I am done with heartfelt tears
Tired of hiding my pain
Self-pitying routine of mine
Driving me insane

Smiling at you will no longer hurt me
You won't make me cry
Not going to waste my time
Thinking about goodbye

I will not wish another day
One more chance with you
It's not going to help anything
Doesn't matter what I do

And step by step I see slow change
Sometimes you compliment me
The other day you ruffled my hair
So different from how we used to be

I refuse to whine because we are friends
That's more than nothing at all
Heart still missing the love disappeared
Yet too afraid to fall

I am alone
But not yet lonely
A little fearful of heartache
I don't need somebody new
Just need a little break