The depth of rage sees the force of sorrow and wishes to be one. Rage wants to be and pushes themself to be kind. Only joy is wished upon sorrow in their neighboring hole. To dig a tunnel between began with hopes to raise each other out of the depths. Rage sees themself and knows their own rot must be cleaned before being a kind force to sorrow. Scraping away while in hatred of their own being.

What is done with an intention of love comes from a background of hurt, and rage is unable keep that out. They reach to hold sorrow, but can only dig in by the fingertips. They open their mind, to be closer, to be known completely, but spill words that have only harmed. Rage only wishes the sum total shows the good they attempt, but can only see the harm they have done.
I did not mean to be cruel, but I was not kind. The tunnel dug has started to cave in. Even with supports the walls will be fragile, but I will spend my time reinforcing them. I will spend my time continuing to dig handholds until sorrow and rage reach joy.

I am the monster in chains held by a lock of my own teeth
I am the lure that controls the angler fish
I am the wolf in sheep's clothing that wishes to be the sheep
I am a friend of the humanity I wish to destroy

What a kind curse I have. I am built in my biological design to observe the world around me. To process and be able to understand concepts, how to use the information to benefit. My visual acuity to discern the physical world with clarity and capture as much floating light information that is ambiently around. A dissociated portion of my own psych that is constantly observing me and my mental state giving a pseudo "objective" view of whatever I'm actually doing. Even when inebriated, woozy, or having ***, being directly still aware of what I'm doing and what is happening to me. I am kind enough and seem to be attractive enough that people enjoy my company, want me around, and sometimes kiss me. I have a strong enough imagination to **** a little with my perceived reality. With a degree of fact, narcissim, and uncertainty, these are gifts.

I have such a poor memory. There is so little I retain from the information I receive. I regularly can not remember to do things. It takes a long time, with considerable effort, to commit something to memory. I lose grasp on a running thread if distracted. The gifts I have are wasted for doing anything to accurately and fully benefit those around me and myself. Even selfishly it is difficult for me to substantially gain from it. This is the curse.

I have no distraction from the exact moment I am in and what is happening right then. I am always present. I have the greatest capacity to observe the exactness of the life I live. I have nothing to do with what I have, other than enjoy it. To see the grandeur of the fact that is existence. That anything exists at all is a marvel and I am here to see it.

Spending my days in total fear
Can't even enjoy a single beer
It's the atoms you see
They're just messing with me
Blazing around I have a hunch
Watching videos is not what I want to be doing on my lunch
But hey, just between me and you, I don't think any of us know what we want to do

As a kid I used to be a poet
But with how hard it is for me to talk now you just wouldn't know it
Picking up hobbies like their mints from hotel lobbies
I can take a deck of cards and magic trick it, but that is certainly no meal ticket

Screaming and damning the heavens Misting the winds red with a raw throat
Sewing seeds of knuckles
Pounding my fury into a grave not yet dug

I am the noble locked high away in the tower
I am the dragon below that seeks to devour
I am the gate, the parapet, the halls, and oobleette
Filled with treasures hoarded away, a gem not out of set

The dragon, born of the castle, grew along side the noble
Who stared out in awe of the world, tottering on a crooked crenellation
Being of beast its instincts and hunger took an earlier maturation
Yet unable to reach out of the walls, swipes of flame could still be sent
Scorches and nicks began to fill the gardens
While the noble tasked to straightening the stones

It took age to understand. To have the ground work for what a dragon is. Seeing it grow day by day, until dawning on the noble. The beast's head would eventually peak over the walls, know the world, and take flight. With a rush of horror, chains were built to tie down the monster. Posted inside, access only to the halls, soon separated down to the dungeons and locked below. A monster of anger blew its flame igniting the ceiling stone. Away to the highest point the noble ran, abandoning the keep if only not to burn their feet.

With the dragon out of sight and still seeking to view the world, the noble turned to making connections. But the igneous stone radiated. With each scorch left on those invited to the castle, a new brick made it's way. A decorative curtain of stone to dome the palace. Nary a brick letting in an ounce of sky, with a sliver of a gate.

The noble turned away from the world, thinking there was only pain to cause. They took shelter and sweltered. Waiting one day for a knight to break down the walls. Hoping a champion could stand the dragons heat and not turn. The noble led those in not burned by the stones. Letting them walk the halls, pointing out the ****** holes and pitfalls, the traps on display. Yet still leading them to a monster unconquered.
All fled to from the heat onrushing the dungeons depth, not even to see a claw.

Stood one knight that cooled the earth they walked. Stood one knight that wished to share the treasures scalding to touch. Stood one knight, a castle of their own. Yet chased away they were too. With a slackening of the chain, the grounds they left. Chased away by the noble who thought the knight could do not be harm.

With the knight came others, a company of compatriots. Combined they stood and made way. Presented pictions of well managed gardens. Of their own crumbling walls and remortared stones. Courage the noble took from them. To reach out and take a hand from them.

Tame the dragon
No more can this go on
I have to take control
The castle diagrams still exist
I used them to build the tools that made the lock
They're in disrepair, but can be mended
I must start now building. It will take time and stone, but I have the will
Down comes the dome
Repurposed to entry arches
I will turn that hated heart into enveloping warmth
I will open the treasury and share the treasures collected, the views I've obtained
I will come down from my tower and walk the halls of my body once more

Child of stars borne of flesh
A construct seeking nature's freedom
Waylaid by the vortex of modernity's daunting delights
The choice of void bulwarked by the infinite
Pleasure found in the details of grains and the mountains they build
The people we find, the companions we choose, are anchors against the storm
Stop a moment with me to smell the flowers burning in the garden
Look upon the wall of grey, see the rainbow cast
Find the absurd in the mundane

you are believer
i am not believer yet
we are both saved

Why do you ignore me

Do my words mean nothing to you

I told you to stop

but you never did




if you have decided

to keep going

then go off your own way

and leave me behind




I want to scream

I want to cry

it was never my intention

to say goodbye




But even with

your intentions

that i never know

of they are good or bad




you made the choice so easy




We tried to ignore our differences

and leave the past behind

but no matter how hard we tried

we just couldn’t take it off our mind




You can say what you want

but why should i listen

when i showed you the darkest parts of me

you tore me apart

and left my heart

broken in two




I tried to be so open

but you just couldn’t accept

when i didn’t think the same thing as you

and tried to turn me

into another version of you




It doesn’t matter anymore

I guess it’s even now

you hurt me

and i hurt you