My biggest form of shame
Is how often I give up on today
How soon I dread tomorrow
I feel guilt in my weakness

The present is a gift I can't open

I lay awake at night,
Talking to the ceiling,
As if it understands.
I look at it,
Waiting for Tomorrow.
“A new day of adventure!” I tell myself.
“A new day of acceptance...”
Will the sun show itself like a newborn fresh to the world?
Or, will it hide like someone who’s seen too much?
Who knows what tomorrow will bring?
Or does tomorrow ever come…

Tomorrow
is tomorrow
is tomorrow
is tomorrow-
if only i could
become unstuck.

I want to know what awaits for me beyond today
I want to see into tomorrow before the sun returns
I need to find the sunshine living in the living
I need to feel tomorrow in today

life's ****** up
          before you have

a red bull and co-codamol

then everything has wings..

              and nothings a pain
                               its just numb,

till reality

          hits 5 minutes before bed,




Then who gives a **** till tomorrow.




                      Rise and then repeat....

hate sings a love song,
blithe, pretty, little tune
in honor of its heritage.
hate sings sweetly, a song
of marches and hangings,
of ghettos and slavery
it hums admiration for its people.
it sings of this land.
the majestic peaks and playful meadows.
it sings, with love, of blood-drenched cotton and  
trenches adorned with crooked bodies.
it sings of its forefathers-  
the conquistadors and pioneers.
saintly butchers and child rapists.
hate paints it’s history holier than the Sistine Chapel,  
singing blindly like a hymn.

hate sings a love song,  
possessive and vicious.  
it scrawls the lyrics on
subway walls and sycamore trees.
it sings in symbols and metaphors,
accompanied by the beat of temple gunshots and kicks to the ribcage.
hate sings through the pulpit and the pew,
clipping it’s verses from a holy book,
it sways to the rhythm of “Amens” and “Hallelujahs”

hate breathes down my neck and yours,
knocking door to door,  
bearing music with a message,  
it weeds out the undesirables one by one.
for the greater good,
hate tortures children therapeutically,
and executes those presumed guilty.
it erases generations
in concrete rooms  
and in the bellies of ships.  
it explodes homes,
smashes panes of glass,
and burns every convenient symbolism.
hate roves and rages and spits and howls,
singing the song of a beautiful future.