the red is far too deafening -
shut palms around my ears
and yet the world is on screaming fire.
my finger joints crack in my eardrums
while the sunflowers roll in the mud.
firecracker red; fire engine red
took a nap in a sack,
the sun never goes away.

if i may i would turn to pray
to a man up in city hall
where the crowds prey,

i'm asking for a bellyache from hunger,
a shadow to leave my body -
not quite the youthful sunshine
with flaming ash in the air.

please be quiet - you're neither
the hysterical patient, nor
one who needs the normalising
medicine - you would not wish.
it is growing on me, much like
a generous parasite.

my chest is a black hole that takes the air I breath from my lungs,
quickly imploding in on itself.
the molecules of my cells wanted to get out of this black pit of anxiousness, but the gravity was too strong to escape
the overwhelming matter

my heart is a jackhammer that palpitates adrenaline-filled blood through the highways of my vessels,
as if one wrong turn would cause the vehicles of blood cells to collide with the walls of my arteries and veins 'til it ruptures.

my mind is a tornado formed by the hot and cold air of
worst-case-scenarios that ***** in whatever is left from the village of my sanity, leaving behind destruction and remnants of mental strain.

my muscles are ropes in a game of tug-of-war between opposing teams of stress and anxiety that tenses up the fibers of my being, causing burns across the length of back and leaving me unable to move,
until the only thing left it can do
is reach a breaking point that creates tassels of exhaustion

Oh, God. Please give me rest.

For a moment I would stop
and gaze at the sunset;
as the sun humbles itself,
I still could not forget.

For a moment I would stop
and search for the moon;
for the night is overwhelming,
I hope it fades away very soon.

For a moment I would stop
and listen to my demons;
different voices, different tones,
they are hungry lions.

For a moment I would stop
and recall my past;
what had happened?
What was that blast?

For a moment I would stop
and realize my mistakes;
I thought they would strengthen me,
but anxiety is all they make.

For a moment I would stop
and overthink for a while;
I could not sleep,
the sheep had ran a mile.

For a moment I would stop
and do nothing, but sank;
I feel nothing, am I nothing?
'Cause I feel like I'm blank.

For a moment I would stop,
hoping that this will all stop;
because I'm too drained
for another teardrop.

destruction
floating a d r i f t
in quite darkness.
the c a l m anxiety
of an ocean
so v a s t
it's depths
sunken wrecks
drowning
drowned.

I have been misplaced. I wander through a wilderness of population and insanity. To be lost in the woods is a blessing; a thrilling adventure full of serenity and life. But to find oneself entangled in this city? I cannot stand it. Traffic rages around me: an ever present roar of engines and anger. The harsh, whining lights glare off dusty blacktop and blot out the stars that once calmed my soul. Glazed eyes are made aware of my presence, yet do not recognize the human being behind my body. I am simply a face. An object. Something to be honked at, passed over, jostled out of the way. Stone faces and cinder block hearts are hidden behind streetlight stares shut up in mansions of separation. Fear, depression, anxiety and violence run rampant on the streets as each individual loses all hope of community in the rage of the crowd. We are lost. Fallen to the dark madness that screams for our attention and consumes our minds. Media is hurled at these overstimulated children till they crack under the weight of it all. And I stand here, digging my toes into the only scraggly patch of earth to be found, watching the bricks crumble around me. Each one is a face. A soul. A story. They have succumb to the city and fallen in the ash heap. The child within has been starved to death; and a stone faced stranger is all that remains.
I do not belong here! Can you not see? I am a child of wind and woodlands: an imp who dwells in trees and caverns and mountain tops. I run with the rivers and laugh in the rain. With calloused feet and muddy toes; bruised knees and a thousand tiny scars carrying stories. My hair is tangled in leaves and twigs, and my sun kissed nose lies between ruddy, wind burned cheeks. I have a tribe. My very own clan of fellow adventurers. Shall I forsake our union and abandon my family for this beauty depraved land? Our hearts have been melded together, and are now being ripped apart by brute force. I cannot bear it. I am not strong enough to hold all the desperate fragments together. Please, I beg of you. Let me go home.

this Overwhelming Reality
consistently returns
It's tied me to the stake
forcing me to question my fatality
coaxing
then scolding
I let It dictate
the voice in my head never learns
like a broken record-relentless never on break
querying my morality
why do I find comfort in these Chains?
pertinaciously handing me the lighter
dousing me in oil I gaze with no concerns
I've clogged up all the drains
content on no longer being a fighter
it's too late
the demons are infesting me
my mental is drenched in propane
swindling they claim to "make my future brighter'
cut down my ferns
only a piece of me remains
so I devour the lit match out of pure desire
oh I'll gain a light alright
in and out of frames
I'm losing sight
my eyes-the first to feel the burns
imaginary tears smother the flames
the demons run and take flight
won't be long for they'll return on another night
this Overwhelming Reality
consistently returns

The feelings of uncertainty are consuming me,
With no clue left of what to do,
My common sense lacks originality,
I lose my mentality as well as my responsibilities.
Everyone counting on me,
Don't make a mistake they all say,
If you choose to proceed on the opposite path then you'll be nothing but a mistake, they all claim.
With nothing left to do,
My mind goes to this dark place, inevitably sways,
And now all I can do is look back at all I've done wrong.

What happens when there's too  much?
Too much for your mind to handle?
It's all a mess up there,
Everything running faster than they should...

And you, yes you...
Trying to grip the handholds of the slick walls...
Of the well that is your mind...
Of your very consciousness.

Falling, drowning in your overpowering,
Overwhelming,
Irrepressible
Abstractness of your own human mind....

I'll tell you what happens....

*Art

My dreams are still about you
So are my nightmares
I have come to realize
For you, I still care
My hopes have only you
Written all over them
Even when I think of you, today
You still don't cease to overwhelm
I still feel messed up
When it comes to you
My friends say I am still in love
Maybe that is true...