I'm sick, my visit

has left and is back again --


Nothing has happened.

I am sick, foggy

and incapable I am --


slurping sips of soup.

Sanatorium,

high in the mountains it is --


quite the underworld.

Our club is losing,

hear the little flags rustle --


like a cold shower.

respect: earned through suffering
no food no sleep no rest
worth: deemed by usefulness
idleness is useless is worthless

a cart of ideologies
hurtling down an infinite hill
pushing on to the next poor fools
who receive and continue

maybe I need to slow it down
throw myself in front and
bump
did that work

is one made a martyr
or just a conman, the easy way out
refusing to play the game
opt out of self sacrifice with self sacrifice

I am overcome with
a state I fail to name

It is you I suffer from,
it is you I burn for

a slow inhale as i wake
aches in every muscle
every nerve on its end
exhausted and heavy
time blurs into itself
into a single moment
into picturesque bliss
on a rotting canvas
i am rotting with it
the world keeps spinning
my clothes become tatters
my knees become weak
my feet bleed
if i could just close my eyes
for five more minutes
five more hours
five more years
which is better
to stand and fall
or kneel and live
to live is to suffer
to forever kneel
for those who tower over me
to always be less
to always be this
to feel the world crumbling around me
again and again
i kneel and cower
to protect myself from debris
that crushes me anyway
life is kneeling
so maybe i should stand
and fall
because kneeling
isn't living

It’s the piece of loose skin on the edge of your thumb

The eyelash that gets stuck in your eye

The rock in your shoe

The sock sliding down your sole

The runny nose that won’t stop running

The first sip of tea that burns your tongue

The hair in your mouth you can’t locate

The piece of apple that won’t come out from the gap between your teeth

We all have the ability to suffer
when it comes to love.
We all have the ability to get the pain when expectations run away from our brain.
The reality always hits you.
And here I am in.
So let's get all of them create you become an art.
This poem may not get you
but it is better to share with you.
You may not realize who you are now,
until someone tells you,
someone that you didn't know before;
the strangers in your mind.

The world is but a single step,
A hundred step a minute;
People live with miseries.
Heaven is as clear as history;
Therefore, I use heaven as a mirror.
To portrait those that suffer,
Those who worries,
And those who bear so sorrow,
How many can live so carefree?
Your heart are troubled;
Yet my heart says otherwise.
In the end, where you find sorrow;
I find happiness.
Life is all about perspective;
Those who live suffer;
Those who suffer will live;
Life is suffering.