I am not aware of my being
I sometimes drift into a void of darkness
Moments soon, paranoia kicks in
I manage to bring out a smile
From the remains of what I call a mouth

Loneliness fuels the fire of sadness
My happiness refuses to quench
Moments later, I get lost
Not in the void, but in my thoughts
Thoughts as to why i'm not aware
Of my being??....No!
But the reason to my sadness

His stream of consciousness was shallow. If a leaf were to settle upon the brook, to grace his life by falling gently to the waters, it would be swiftly babbled away.  
A leaf, a friend, a lover - none were given a chance to reach the calm below the surface. His thoughts, the stones, and pebbles were constantly turned by the ever flowing tide that carried him along his path alone. Go deeper **** it.

a lone figure
on a solitary beach.
me, pebbles, water and I.

My mind is a void of darkness,
The absence of light,
The gears in my head,
Have rusted over;
The lightbulb has burnt out.
I am the last one,
Of the Order of the Grey.
The rest have fallen and gone astray.
When death greets me like an old friend,
My secrets will disappear.

-Shadow Prince, Guardian of Secrets,
Of the Order of the Grey.

Being who he is
it came as no surprise
that he could not be anything else
but alone
Shutting every door
until nothing but the looming shadows
from the drapery
remained

Four walls were needed
Four walls and no doors
Nothing that could be opened
or brought inside
to share the space

and it was always my place to stand
patiently
waiting for a welcome
that never comes

Wood ignites in the dusty pit.
The man never bothers to clean it.

He's sat on a chair piled with cooking books.
They increase his height.
The man knows this.
And so to past time
He swings his feet.

Face, as dull as always,
He revels in silence.

You'd think he was dead
How unresponsive he was to the world.

He always knew what he
wanted to become in life,
Cooking was his one love.
One push out the door
from a big name, though,
Gave no space for a comeback.

He's put up a shield
to block out the world.
No longer looks forward to fun.

What is he doing with the rest of his life,
He's spending his time drinking ***.

© J-d S. J

She passes her hands through her hair, she’s shedding.

Massaging her scalp, hair strands fall onto her lap.

Its dark, her night light gets dimmer and dimmer the longer she spends

staring at it.

Finger nails scratch her skin to relieve the itch of everyday struggles.

It’s getting darker, and she panics in silence.

Her heart beat races. Her palms get sweatier and every minute, every second, she finds herself more frighten.

The moon is full and stuffed with light that dares not to shine through her window.

She howls and hears the echo of her own voice through the empty halls of memories.

A screech on the glass makes her head turn. She hides under the bed,

And the night light bleeds into the dark,

Until it no longer has a pulse.

Tears from the lonesome stream down her rosy cheeks,

It’s dark. And the moon is hiding behind the traveling clouds

of  the night.

Cursed by my imagination,
teaming with echoes of situations
I do not feel well,
pressed beneath this spell

Polishing my social skills,
with one more drink, and two more pills
I do not feel good,
I thought by now I would

Bound by my own disposition,
the endless hunt to find fruition
I'm insatiable,
even if my cup is full

It's like one thousand paper cuts, soaked in vinegar
It's like a battles within myself, that leaves me insecure

the lone survivor is on
his raft at sea
creaking and swaying
in a tide that can't decide
calmness or turbulence

the sun is out yet
the clouds are endless
together in their gray
unison like a blanket
of dust

his eyes greet the waters naught
but opaque and black
were it not for the navy streams
from the poor muddled light
overhead