Sometimes you want to hide
from yourself and from the world
But you can only linger in the
city lights and heavy music and *****.

Sometimes you want to run
from yourself and from the world
But you can only walk on the
prickly thorns set on the pavement.

Saturnina, whilst you long to hide
Those tears will remain masked
And whilst your feet bleed
They leave remnants of pain
It may be washed away by the rain
But there will always be a visible stain.

By the time the sun decides to appear
And you witness the same thorns that brought you fear
Promise me you’d choose to stay
Not minding whether the color’s yellow or gray
For as long as you keep hiding and running
Saturnina, you’ll go on without mending.

Memories like broken glass
                     fill my heart                    my sensible soul
                                    shards of you
                                                                     remain
                  Tattering this perspective
                                  Leaving a broken person
                                                       behind                        these eyes
                  This Kerouac perception
                                       mounted on confusion
               for                                                      feelings left
                                          undisclosed
            Baffling me like a child
                                                         Thunder and rain my
                    only solace
                                                       dark clouds             my psyche
mutually bound
                                      Like hurricane Galveston
   ripping apart               these thoughts                 these transgressions
                                     mortally comforting
          like cigarettes on Sunday
                                                             reaching forth      
               grasping at straws                                   so they say
                                                 they always say
but do they feel                                                  as I've felt?
                            alone                &                 tempered
                                       as glass
the glum periphery                                engulfing
                                        melting me down                     eating away
       into a pool of nihility
                                                   to harden              to break these chains
feels outdated          unscripted nonsense
                        in the background of my memories            souvenirs
      a setpiece             based on untruths

created        
                 into
                               this
                                          sheer              crystalline              matter

They call
                                                    Glass

seasons and time flash before me as your ground shifts away.
i am no snow to your winter; nor am i your cherry blossom during spring.

i can be that missing piece that completes your empty puzzle.

Tell me what it is
About the trees
Dusty grey and gloomy in October
That resonates so dearly with a heart
Melancholy and somber
This rain is soothing
Like the soft white I line my walls with
A golden haze playing through my veins
And flames to match the essence
But not the calefaction

You can watch me drift into a paralysis effortlessly
A debilitation cold and lingering
Like lifeless trees awaiting the worst
Some sun
Does not change the course of nature
And I wonder what flavor of future
Nature holds for me
I feel like the trees
In the middle of a foggy autumn afternoon
Comfortable

And content
Living in the shadows of a world
Too engulfed in regurgitated highs
To contemplate or appreciate struggle
A world utterly ignorant to individuals soft spoken and inherently
Harmonious in the ways of authenticity
And naturalism and realism
We have the endurance to undergo lifelong tempests
But lack the energy to speed through
Trivial phases of Insatiable beauty 
Our growth is goddess enough

Tell me what it is about the moon
Majestic and nostalgically haunting
A calming through night's terrors
And unforgiving traumas
Silver whisps of validation shine into a heart
With love looking a little too much like silhouettes
An ebony void seeping into the cracks of joy
And pain becoming an obvious pattern
And the moon is there always
Watching the molding in a resentful awe

What happened to the life of the young
Happiness looking like summer nights
And chrismas lights and vintage pop bottles
Fading into an uninviting outline
Through that type of half reality
Half fantasy version of time
Months feeling like hours
But unrewarding years all the same
Childhoods disappearing into insomnia
And I'm not very hungry
And I don't want anything for my birthday
Kind of aloof answers
We get it
We're all just tired

Tell me what it is
About the stillness of autumn
That induces a numbness in our hearts
Watching our desires blow away with the wind
One by one
They sing their remorse through aeolian howls
Uncanny and ghost like
Or the early nightfalls
That strangely feel more intimate
Than our last touch did
A type of familiarity rather profound
And lacking in any form of resentment
Maybe it's the significance in vulnerability
The stripping away of irrelevant priorities
To see the real
To see the roots

Tell me what is is
About the trees
Dusty grey and gloomy in October
That soothes a tired soul
A vagabond in search for more
And a heart a little too in love with loss

When I least expect it,
You hold my hand
And guide me

In the depths of an ocean of loneliness,
You remind me of companionship

I begin to remember the sunny days
The rainy days
The gloomy days
The days that made me

I have found to love those memories

I wanted to sing.
But the world doesn't let me.
I was born mute so I couldn't sing.
I think the world hates me.

I wanted to dance.
But the world really hate me.
I don't really much remember what happened since I was little.
But I do remember when they removed my knee.

I want to draw.
I still have both of my hands with me.
But the world really wants me to never do anything I wanted.
The world ******* me up when I suddenly couldn't see.

Even so I really can't do much anything right now,
I still can use my mouth and speak freely.
But then the world really, REALLY hates me to the core.
Just as I thought, it took my voice away from me.

I am blind, deaf, mute, and I can't even move myself.
Just what did I do to the world that it had almost cursed me?!
I'm done! I'm done! Just end my life if you hate me that much!
Just end my life... and put an end to my misery...

Im begging you...