Jerky tongue
crusted lips
daylight scorched and deep
ridge of the brow splits
cracks
brain leaks slow
sickly air
coarse skull
something rots in me
puke
i have to puke
i hate her
brown gold hair
i hate the speck of will
that veers from clot

Blow into my mind
I can taste
This wasted space

And so you go
And close the blinds
Push and sway
The sea in we

But it becomes
Shadowed over time
Clouded to whats right
Hindsight is telling me to fight
It also said
Not all you do is right

Dump it all on me
Can we relate
Does this take space

Inside my he/art
It turns to wine
But who knows
I do this
I do this all the time

But who knows
I do this all the time

In hell
I look into your eyes
Take a peek
When you speak

About the woes
The counter to your life
I need no strife
On the counter
Let me counter with a knife

In life's darkest depth, Hope Echoes,
Resounding through every race,
tongue and Nation, Uniting hearts
And transcending borders.

In moments of anguish, Hopes Echoes,
Calling for solidarity amongst men,
To stand in oneness against the evil
That beguiles this big blue ball.

In times of shadows, Hopes Echoes,
Shining bright on all that seem faded,
Reviving lost dreams, empowering sight
And giving strength to those who are weak.

In our loneliness, Hope Echoes,
Turning isolation into communion,
fraternity into fellowship
And brings us a step closer to "The Truth"....

Even now, Hope Echoes,
Charging the old to employ their wisdom,
And the youth, their strength,
So that Mankind can again be free,
Not just free, but truly free and cleansed,
From the shackles of all doubts and impurities.

There’s something sitting on my brain.
Something disconnected.
No current. No spark.

My eyes are rolling loose in their sockets.
My voice sounds like it’s
on the other side of a wall.

I didn’t want to leave the house,
but the sun reached through the window
and coaxed me out.

Then, a brown-haired woman
with crystal eyes and porcelain cheeks
walked by,
and I caught the soft pull of her
flowery, spring-scented perfume.

It was cherries,
and my love,
and everything good.
It was honey.
It was holding my mother’s hand to cross the street.

Just a few days after we met,
you began to change—
and that change was captivating.
You kept moving forward,
in the best possible direction.

Life is a marathon, with set courses.
Each of us runs on our own track.
But someone ahead of me,
shoved me off mine.
Though I wanted to return to my path,
I zigzagged between two lanes.

I only realized it after meeting you—
you were running on a completely different track.
But once you returned to your own,
you picked up incredible speed.

I was the one who walked away.
And I was the one left behind.

What we’ve come to know
about being human
is to grow in phases
to take pain and grief
from the ends of the bookshelf
and to stir them into the atmosphere

breathing in and out
until the silence between each breath
was a bridge to relief

it was never to solve the puzzle in a day
or to sort through all the pieces in
a strategic manner
but to feel the joy of frustration
the strange joy of trial and error

My journey has come to an end,  
A halt in the life we comprehend.  
To death, my friend,  
A favor I wish to extend.  

I wish to live once again—  
Not too long; that would be a pain.  
Just one day, 24 hours to gain—  
That would be a fair bargain.  

"Just what would you achieve?  
What salvation could you receive?"

Don't ridicule me with lies.  
Forget hours—24 minutes would suffice.  
I would show you a life  
Where thousands of lives thrive.  

A life you've never seen,  
One whose end couldn't begin.  
I will show you life so serene,  
Not even found in the Elysian Green.  

So answer my pledge,  
Allow me to cross the ledge.  

Then I'd meet my weeping sweetheart,  
Relive every event before I depart.  
I'll meet my friends at the bar again,  
Encourage one to live, another to laugh,  
Help them cope with the pain.  

And a kiss to everyone I'd blow,  
For the love and care they show.  

Things I couldn't do, I'd do now.  
To nature's gift—my life—I'd bow.  
There's more I wish to say  
About how I'd live, even for another day.