I hear a single glassy song:
The thought of life itself is wrong.
When overhead and over trees,
Over clouds and over seas
Suspended by a silver thread,
Is air that gleams in heaven's bed
And glittering realms that wait in dreams.
Things that only dead men see.

A cry for help:

I'm sinking, I'm sinking
Into an ephemeral blink -
Stains and strains of time,

Oh colourless ink.

Dry relief rains:

This pain
                     will wane,
Why worry
                       in vain?
Death lurks
                      in all works.

Don't let it drive you insane.

When everything is clean
and in it's right place
I always think I'll feel...
content,
ready to
live my life
fuller,
happier.

But all
I ever
want to do,
is replace
what I threw
away.
To fill
the empty space.

And it's meaningless.
It's all meaningless

The Moon has abandoned us
We are but blades of grass in a shielded blow
We are merely stones in a river's roll
One day we will be no longer.

We are desperate to cling to
some semblance of reason
but what good does the morrow bring worth breathing today for??
What good is so good that I should stay awake?
We are trying so hard to pretend that sharing our crazy is the least crazy thing
We cling so hard to this notion that we forget to look in the mirror while exchanging pictures of each other instead of reflecting on who we are,
But then, what's the point of reflecting on who we are when all we're capable of is our own life? Literally, the most powerful thing we can do is end ourselves. We aren't so special. We're just bodies with artificial flavors. No semblance of natural beauty; it's all been placed there by our self-serving pursuit of purpose. It's so much easier to believe we suffer for a reason. We don't.

A sad, frail calamity
A ship on endless ocean
Misery loves company, and that's why we've outlawed suicide, because really
You can't tell me you really believe we will be punished for ending our own durations, given to us without permissions,
You can choose your destiny as long as you stay alive. Death is not an option, until it is, and then what?

You're so glad that I'm expressing myself, but you wish i'd say some different things
So glad to see me creative again, but so against the things i say again and again and again and again and I just want somebody to make it all better like when you're 5 and don't know what existence ******* is but you get a cut on your finger and now you exist, but then your momma comes and sticks a band-aid on your finger and the pain of existence is gone. i want that feeling again.

But my mom's antibacterial powers have subsided as the ills have built resistances; they're now resisting penicillin and we don't own anything else right now. I open up my medicine cabinet, anyway. There's Tylenol. At least it'll help to ease the pain.

I take one. I take another. It isn't working. I take some more. Do these have a limit? I think they do. But I can't read at this point. I take another. I take another. I'd be counting but i can't do that, either. I keep taking the pills. I never stop. For all of eternity I take additional Tylenols, until a sad, frail calamity comes home from work and sees a sunken fleshy ship at the end of its ****** and final voyage.

The real subjectivity of life is overwhelming;
Prospective consumes our frontal cortex
But there is no escape from this vacuum seal.
We see the faces of our own delight,
The know how of the here and now,
But we are too blind to look past our own perspectives.
Even when we fathom the hearts of others,
Our understandings are predisposed  to our own Identity.
Objectivity is a fleeting notion of reality, of truth
and its as though the ground we hold so dearly
Is constantly fleeing from our grasp.
Today we call this individualism,
a disconnect between one's self and society.
But I so selfishly and foolishly believe
that this chasm stems from being lied to so often.
Am I lying to myself or am I being lied to I do no know,
but it is important to understand that it does not matter
that nothing matters, because everything exists in my field of view.
The only question remains: am I correct
Or has the devil made me a fool?
But  this does not confirm nihilism
only hints at its initial potential.
Yet there are common truths that are irrefutable
no matter who you are, real or not:
The reality is the here and now,
No matter what ghosts or demons there may be.
They affect the consciousness constantly
indifferently to whether or not they are fraudulent or true.
And my experiences are true, the emotions are radical,
and even if everyone I know is a figment and interpretation,
they still hold a grasp onto my withering heart.

I find a small comfort in those slow Sunday afternoons
when time moves like thick molasses,
the sun shines through my window
and fills me with warmth
when the universe feels so much bigger than me,
and you,
and all of this.
I can rest easy,
curl up into a blanket of safety,
knowing that nothing I do matters.
The things I choose to do or not do will not alter the course of the universe,
will not be significant beyond my own small corner of space and time.
The joy I find in the curl of my hair,
or the comfort of this chair,
matter only because I matter to me.

I write too often while thinking of you

It's late, everyone's asleep and my confidence is beginning to bate,
it feels like I've been awake for weeks straight, I can't extricate this state of distrait, everything is becoming harder to assimilate and I can barely differentiate reality from the reversed universe that my mind manipulates and creates,
My heart palpitates, my thoughts tumultuate and my lungs refuse to inflate under this weight as I begin to dissociate
What's great about my universe is that you can honestly relate,

Others understand in this mystic fantasy land,
There life isn't so bland, our existence was planned and best of all you and I roam hand in hand obeying your preferred god's demand,

There I'm not terrified that I will die with the afterlife unverified, the answers to my questions are clarified and my smile isn't forced or pried but instead a happiness that's justified,

There I have a perilous quest to distract me from the distress of the universe's careless emptiness, my feelings abide my behest and my mind doesn't remind me of my pointlessness,
Regardless I'd be happy nonetheless if I could leave all the rest just to retain your caress.

10-30-18