My creativity intertwined
With my depression
All the way it goes
to the very bottom

And there they sit
at the bottom of the world
twisted like lovers
As I sit looking on
With death by my side

More beauty
The world never held
To my eyes
Than from a well worn spot
With an old friend
At the bottom of the world.

A rush of blood to the head
The excitement of dread
Why
Do we yearn for the reasons we bled?

To be free from reality
Can't see your mortality
It's no surprise
The devil loves hospitality

Nobody watches him slide through the door
You give him everything yet he somehow wants more
Let him tear up the carpet
The curtains
The floor

That was the last time

Every time
You swore

k.d.

i cannot quite explain the fears inside my head
but they express themselves
in the broken skinned lips i have
and the gnawing on dead skin
they express themselves
in the chewed on fingernails
they express themselves
from the sores from picking at hangnails and scabs
and they express themselves
from popping my joints as much as they will allow
do i look as anxious as i feel
half of this **** i don't even realize i'm doing

I’ve realized I’ve set something in motion.
But I don’t want it to stop regardless of the commotion.

I face the fact that I need to quite smoking.
Because I’m sick and tired of choking.

I really need a light to help me through this.
Because alone I cannot navigate this mist.

A tender soul to make me right.
Even if I tend to fight.

This nasty odor I create.
And all I see is that other hate.

So someone please answer my biggest wish.
Help me with this habit I must abolish.

You can’t stop smoking
I can
You can’t ignore ****
I can
You can’t avoid drinking
I can
You can’t stop shouting
I can
You can’t shut up complaining
I can
You won’t drop that gun
I will
You can’t help silence
I can
You survive with violence
I can’t
Toleration with independence
Seizing opportunities for peace
Let the wire choke your lungs out
Hell in front, war of apes
Animals in the streets, Grodds
Telepathic maniacs attacking blocks
Rappers in the venues spitting fires
On every head spreading contagion
Zombies alike, transformers of Lannesters

It has been said many times before, ‘Old
Habits die hard’ and I agree, without
Condemning any of my own, as I begin
Unlatching eyelids, shutters to the real world,

To gentle caresses of sunbeams, furtively tiptoeing
Around the room, invading space, consistently crawling
On my bed, to reach my forehead and grant
A longed-for princely awakening kiss.

My feet touch the floor, a few steps next door,
I cleanse my face with tepid water, always
Appreciatively contemplating the billions years
Old interstellar ice, molecules composing each single drop.

I slowly walk downstairs anticipating the day, prepare
The espresso coffee ***, as I allow the radioman to shower
Me with the latest news I wish to block,
Roll my cigarette and open my precious laptop

Containing me and all my thoughts, a second brain
To register what I forgot. Look about in the meanders
Of a virtual world other than my dreams
And proceed typing words that combined create

Meaning, unleashing imagination, feelings and evanescent
Memories, observing my surroundings, once more asking
Myself why, each time I take a break and lie
By the lake, ants climb over my body.

Some of your words
are stapled
into my skin,
correcting me in times of error

i can't do most of the things I used to
my sensitive stomach is now back to the state it seems to belong in
tied in never ending, always tightening knots
4 hours, 3 hours, 2, 1, half an hour
I go until im numb and nearly collapsing
eyes glazed and burning feeling as though
they'll crack at any given moment
because I can't do most of the things I used to
a hot cup feels like it can destroy me
but the stinging and lovely burn seems to reside in me
like something that was meant to be all along
old habits do die hard, eventually at least
but now I know what the decay can do
it simply brings out whats even worse next spring