All I know is monsters
All I see is a cold world that gets darker as the *** stir's
The future blurs to a point its so obscure it's not yours
Can't seem to stop words from causing me to go backwards
Maybe I need to go back and relearn like toddlers in diapers
There's no cures
All the fibers of my being are withering away like dead flowers
Retreating like cowards
The more I try the worse I fail, a living hell, crunch the numbers
I've done the math, a chalk board full of blunders
Nightmares occurring with my eyes wide shut
It's more then a rut
A candidate to win? Nope, I have a losing ballot
No safety blanket and no bright colors on my pallet
Hollow and cryptic
Revisit the past like I'm stuck to it with a rivet
This isn't just unfortunate it's inadequate
Chew off my arm to be free or just cannibalistic
Can I even resist it?
This dark army that I have enlisted
For to long happy never even existed
And you wonder why I tend go ballistic...
Man, **** this ****!

©2018

If passion was injectable would you stay in this purple stuck cavern without saints or pain, left alone with only feeling together you and I, and as apache tears fall and cut my knees, will you take my hands and let me taint your skin with golden spikes? To run away with blinded lovers and gouged out eyes, will you silently yell my pure white lies like a pope to his god?
Don't be afraid, I won't let you leave. Not until i die in every breath you breathe
After all, all’s never fair in love and war

Vellichor (n.): the strange wistfulness of used bookstores.

The clouds may obscure,
But cannot vanish,
The Sun above

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