As hard as I try,
I can't confide
in myself,
to think of better...
...happier
...less depressing things...
My mind is the opposite of a moth,
it flies away from the light,
...craving darkness, at the bottomless pit of the abyss that is my soul...

Weaving to the pulse of a room.
The thick blend of sweat and passion is cast out to the hungry.
As the assault eases there is a moment of calm.
A deep breath before the machine gun fire.
Seconds before everything comes crashing down;
An onslaught you know well.
Heavy hits from limbs, belts, and bones as adrenaline
Allows you to give as good as you get and show that you care;
Show that you do this because you have to;
That the pulse owns all and has full control.
I salute those who can make a room implode;
Those who rip everything from you so you have to face it.
The bruises remind us that we were there
And we share the fallout,
Because we live for that ****.

growing
groWING
GROWING
in my stomach.
growing
groWING
GROWING
in my mind.
not a tree,
not a flower,
not a plant of any kind.
full of absolutely nothing...
so what I am to you...
nothing.
emptiness that is.
growing
groWING
GROWING
in my throat.
the lump, the bump,
it won't go down.
I can't take it any longer.
I fall to the ground.
no more growing
groWING
GROWING.
because now I am small.
as small as these feelings you have.
as small as the time it took
for me to grow fond.
so I shrink now.
down to the very last drop of
the ocean
the lake
no just the pond.
the pond that will soon turn into a pit.
growing
groWING
GROWING
in my stomach.

Do you know that deep sinking feeling which you get at the pit of your stomach?
It drains all of the life out of you and makes you feel weak.
Muscles and joints don't feel as lively as you drag your feet behind you.
Distracting yourself from the sadness and the pain is almost impossible
The uncomfortable knot will eventually work it's way up to your throat.

As I lay here on my bed
My soul is falling
Down
Into a deep deep pit

No

Not falling
My soul IS the pit
And I fall into it
I am not drowning in my fear
Rather I see it as a marinade
Of gasoline and gunpowder
I dwell in it, soak it into my skin
And wait for the match to light

As I sit here
My arms and head are heavy
Though my eyes leave the ground
They always return swiftly
I no longer can look into your eyes
With confidence
I feel I have failed you
More than the rest
More than myself

I see you
And my whole being shakes with envy
My stomach is twisted with jealousy
All that I desire in life
You have
I find no solace in slumber
No respite in my dreams
Night after night
Week after week
I dream of my failures
I'm haunted by the ghosts of my shortcomings
And wounded by your spectre of success.

why why why?
Only one in what seems like a desert of none
one face, one smile
still only a mirage, a muse.
It's been so long since my mind t’was drenched.
sympathy
why, so dry, am I to die?
I shall ever climb myself out of this sandpit;
but shall it ever escape me?
The winds ride over this land turning all I see to dust anyhow.
A mountain in the midst of my muse would not last.
It would be swallowed up by all this water.

The band starts playing at a ***** and crowded backyard.
Rebellious youth gather to cast their vote with the stomping of their doc martin boots.
Beer cans everywhere, everyone's trying to let loose the raw stranglehold their society has produced.
The guitars go off and the ritual begins.
First they assemble in the heart of the pit.
In the center individual tragedies bring fourth the wrath of a God's army.
Anarchy you call it, Ha! I call it reassurance, reassurance that this anger is surely communal.

I never saw it more clearer, the youth's power to resist: If the government wont hear us, we will create our own sound even under the batons of fascism, we spit on your rule, your control of our art.

We wont bow down to a law with our names written all over it, while another politician walks free from corruption.
While another officer guns down an un armed child and calls it self-defense.
While suspicious mass shootings continue to occur and mass cameras grow in recording.
While you send more people off to war for another countries resources.
These thoughts explode out of me into shoves, screams, ****** cuts, reckless behavior, and then finally release. Pure psychiatric release.

Memories of past present and future invade my personal space, strangling me with their claws of deception.
I struggle against them, desperately trying to escape, the impression they leave suffocating and reaching with long tendrils for my most inner thoughts.
The darkness is almost touching me now, dancing, playing, teasing. Just so slowly spreading into my world and my life.
I can’t control it, only decide to live with it, understanding it and fighting it every day. Until i can’t fight it anymore, and then the small light which was burning slowly, was fading fast. It was close to me now, circling dangerously, i tried to escape but found myself jumping into the void, greeting it as an old friend.

It is one of those days
where I get stuck
in my pit

struggling to climb
needing to escape

Soon may be too late
late will be too long

Can someone lend me a rope?
I shan't hoist myself
not yet.
Send it so you may
safely descend
not to stay
only to visit
so I have company's comfort
here in my pit.

Maybe then they'll understand
why I slip so suddenly
and help me remember
there's always a way out.

The time will come
when the climb is
self-attained.
But I can't
not now.  

So the rope might still reside
lost to shadows only I could be
seeing.  
I just hope you carry a glimmer
of what's left of the world's lights
so this climb
and (m)any others
will be eased.
Then will come my ascent
yes, this time my own
when I won't need another
for each gradual advance
back into that
twisted little reality.