Another time, another space
A breath from fear and grieving
The sunlight fills an empty void
But soon I will be leaving

Tire tracks on dusty roads
Her crimson heart lay beating
Generations of divided families
Yes, soon I will be leaving

The destination was never known
Each path opaque and deceiving
As soft as ravens opal wings
And soon I will be leaving

Watching rose blossoms grow
This gift is for receiving
Comfort found in the daze of summer
So, soon I will be leaving

Don’t run, please stay awhile
Hope and love can be deceiving
My back turned towards the bell tower
For now I will be leaving

I'm happy, but I don't feel that way.

From cutting wrists and tormented sleep,
I've come so far,
but sitting alone in my car,
I know just how close my feeling are to being dragged right back to when I felt nothing at all.

Life's good, but not good enough

My smiles were fake,
Only real when I got baked
But even that somehow felt better then being so close to falling back into that dark place

I think I loved the chase,
but it's over now

I'm happy
I guess,
But terrified too

Because I know the only feeling that can come next

Stuck in a societal routine she hustles a monotonous 9-5,
Shuffling through days that melt into weeks,
Awaiting to escape arbitrary rituals - she seeks release.

.
Play.

I do not know which iteration of myself
I am pleading with this time,
but let me ask on my knees if I will still be you
when I get to wherever I’m supposed to end up.
When you say ‘try again’ I reset,
slam myself into doors and windows until
the milk of my bones seeps back
into amniotic fluid, and then I am here again.

I am here again, and now
I have new mistakes to make.

Pause. Confusion. Breathe. Play.

There’s a body in the glass,
fragments plucking themselves
through parallelities;
there’s something beautiful
next to something that stings,
and they pool together
like watercolours against a sky
where you can pluck your finger
from the air and lay claim to the spot
where you think the end might be.

If you want the end to be yours,
then take it. Tell me
how I should be going about this,
and if you can watch as I
ruin everything again, let yourself
become dust in the air
and surround me with the control
that I do not have.

I’m not in control.
I’m never in control.
And there’s something absurd in the air
that pushes the day to the horizon
again.

It’s up to you now.

Pause. Rewind.
.

Baby I'm sorry, I don't want to be mean,
Meaning is that I don't want to sin
But what can I do, if I don't feel it beyond my skin!
Oh No! Oh No, that means! She's sorry again

What a fool I was, to make her bear that kind of pain
Pain that is not meant, never meant to be seen,
Something I am to avoid, so keen.
Oh No! Oh No, she's sorry again!

She asked me if I was bored, I told her not,
Hurtful words I said, I accept this fact,
I'll try my best to never repeat this act.
Oh No! Oh No, alas! She's sorry, once again!

Baseline fractures
Faults in the earth
Inevitable crevices, unfathomable
Depths, and the-
                         -another?
                              Baseline fractures



Darkest shores
A dozen dead mourners
Grey lights and
A land without corners

Horizons twist bitter
Into themselves
The world descends further
Out of the shelves

From dust a baseline
From dust a hall
From dust to dust
It's just a hall