Well, you better hide

your thoughts, others don't have them --


It makes them jealous.

Love is not peace
or happiness
love is the passion
of poppies that bleed
profusely
love is the emptiness
of a poisonous thorn
that ****** the heart
love is the kiss of a rose
that doesn't know what to do
love is a dangerous game
people either die without regret
or live with pain in their necks
love is the white spaces of the years
left to our imagination
sometimes it's like sand in our hands
the tighter we hold it
the faster it fades
fortunately when it does
our soul can regain some peace.

I had death on my mind before
but this was different
Depression wanted more
My demons belligerent

My mind on this endeavour
Mixed logic in and its making more sense than ever
There is absolutely nothing after death
A thousand thoughts but one last breath.

On life I no longer wish to cling
But death ends everything
Thought or feeling
Or the process of healing

You don't hear or speak lies
You don't feel the pain behind cries
You don't see it in their eyes
You don't feel how time flies
You don't know if towards your wellbeing or demise

You don't have a mood
You don't feel good
You don't mind opinions skewed
You don't care how you're viewed

You don't feel bad
You don't feel sad
You don't feel the loss for what you had
You don't feel love from your mom and dad

You don't get to care for what you hold dear
You don't get to be brave or cower in fear
You don't get to wipe a happy or sad tear
You don't get to chastise or cheer
You don't get to choose, you just disappear

You don't get a choice in the matter
You don't get to worry about the after
You don't get the need for a break, a breather
You don't get regret for dying either...

they say the lone wolf dies
yet the pack survives.
it is the strength of a whole and it solely that can mend for sturdy fangs and foreign bites
of ill-fated violence.
regrettable.

and although they say the pack survives, what is of the lone wolf?
is he fated to be swallowed whole by the jaws of his most trustworthy companions?
to be crucified as a slave and mistreated as a martyr?

they say the lone wolf dies
and his carcass serves as a reminder of what can be forgotten so easily
through the years he can be no more
and the pack will be, still

they say the pack survives upon the feeble shoulders of the lone wolf
feeding its ego and stomach
praying for another to idolize like the most precious of waste.
after one comes another
and time does not make saints out of victims
nor does the pack which thrives and feasts and tears limb to limb deities and sinners alike.

cruelty is no stranger to the pack
it is a principle to build community upon
and everyone relishes being the predator
until they too are made into the prey.

nobody ever remembers the lone wolf
nor do they remember whom he was before crucifixion
what they do remember is to never be pushed into such a place

the struggle never ends
and when another falls into their godless clutches
you'll thrive and feast and rejoice
and find yourself thinking
at least it’s not me

Born with a better life
Formed with a rugged line
Caught in a muddy mind
Inner war in full force
Empty shores
Grains are coarse
Brain is worn from the thought
Of the cause
And the flaws
In the bottled up troubled times...
Keep that light in sight though
Eyes open wide,
So you can brave the flow so
You can find all the times
To unwind
Organise
And refine
How you fight Home Made choke holds

Feels like I'm courting
A black hole I'm forming
Distorting rewarding
Thoughts formed flip to morbid
'It's just a bad day not a bad life'
Ever had a day that lasts a life time?
Guess I'll be right in the mourning

What sort of a mess is this
Formed full of emptiness
Scorn for my premises
Thinner walls
Creaking floors
Feeling worn
Sleeping more
Brain is worn from the thought
Of the cause
And the flaws
I have bottled in hesitance
Keep that light in sight though
Eyes open wide,
So you can brave the flow so
You can find all the times
To unwind
Organise
And refine
How you fight Home Made choke holds

Start with absorbing
The wellness from talking
Succoring the morbid
Thoughts formed flip to glory
'This is a good day not a bad life'
Ever want a day to last a life time?
Might just be right in the morning

I write by closing my eyes and scribbling on a napkin. Then I flip it upside down and whatever it initially looks like becomes the subject of my thoughts...

I dream in doodles
Now it all makes sense