What am I but a soul,
Imprisoned by a shell of flesh,
With organs feasting on my fluids,
Operated solely by a wrinkled beast
At the top of the meat tower.

Have I a choice? Or am I bound
To this wrinkled beast’s desire,
Praying for the day that
The light will come calling
And the beast will die.

I am amazed more
and more
how much the mind can be stuck
in slavery
to thoughts.

I am less afraid of people
who commit suicide.
Suffering is so intense.
It makes me think of how
low our minds can take us
down to where
we feel we
might drown.  

No one, not one person
is to blame for
suicide.
There should be no anger,
no shame.
Be real in life.
Do not shelter shame
as if it is a friend,
a payback,
or a way of life.

Shame is as deep as
******
is the devil.
Deep in an inkwell
Black tar stuck in
the pits searching
for free skies
for air
the soul is not for sell.

And it can come to this.....

Dead Enders

Places we have been to
Places we compare to
Travel light-years
In circles around us
Overtime
Around and around we go
Spiraling through the
self-disparaging
Thoughts we hack ourselves into.

Until,  Sense-less
Dead enders.
So, unthread,
Un  thread,
Un      thread.
Unwind
Before your prospects
Leave this space.

Around and around
we go
Transcenders
Looking out, looking up
and
Down
Sinking
Please me here
Take from there
Give to him always
Without a dare
Sunk and done
Dead end right here.

'loneliness is a tax you have to pay to atone for a certain complexity of mind.'

                                     - Alain de Botton.

Beneath your fingertips lies the earth of roses, their essence entwined
with sharp, thorny scratches upon your neck. Moist lips utter a
cascade of words, attempting to dilute the value of any moment; these
words, a subtle taste inspiring saliva that stirs the mouth, to spit a
piece of game, loudly amidst the intricate game of cards that mirrors
the tumultuous game of love.

Tears well in my eyes for those who are suicidal – cutting themselves,
even as life unfolds as a beautiful wound. We grow amidst the pain of
our parents, who pray silently that we are not handed over to their
burdens at birth. It is a legacy, passed down through generations,
where ancestors never dared to shatter the shackles of their
subjugation. This oppression, cloaked in passive aggression, who can
dream for their young, when they’re too busy living so restless? How
can one value God’s favour, when you always rivalling other people’s
blessings?

The notion of death becomes a familiar companion; in a world where
malevolence persists, the thought of extinguishing it all seems a swift
solution. Those pretty eyes, seemingly pure, can swiftly unveil the
truth that being innocent is a fragile façade that can be lost in a sec.
But wouldn’t you want to fall in love with someone who appears
heaven sent – perhaps they hail from the heavens, but their arrival is
more a descent. Even Lucifer must have carried a bit of Heaven’s
scent.

Everyone seems decent every time you greet them; meet them a couple
times and you mind tries to delete them… I’m thinking too much,
the mind is the evil of the heart, when the two don’t always get along.

mind commits a crime:
renders the body unsafe;
the soul bears witness.

i do not lie to
you being unknown is a
challenge of deep mind

I blame the chemicals
Rome wents up in flames
Sometimes I wish I weren’t the one to say
That is just my mind
That’s not who I am
To quiet when it dies
To loud when people scream
I see them reach for me

I beg you on my knees to stay
That’s all I seem to do these days
As if your shadow would be mine
You say
“That’s the curse of a loud mind”

I wish it weren’t mortal truth
In my head I’d give it up for you
I’d loose the crown, the chaos and the pain
And I’d dance, I’d dance right in those flames

You’d blow them out
Just one by one
And in your hand a loaded gun
“Peace always needed people dead”
And you’d lift it to the emperors head

I used to fly
Free as a bird
With no fear of falling

But now I am bound by chains
I have plunged into eternal captivity
Held prisoner by my own mind