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.

There are some days that are better than others.
There are some days that hurt.
Some that heal.
Some that rip you apart from the inside out.
Some that feel like nothing could sour your feelings but it’s all lies.
Indifference is a blessing.
Ignorance is a curse.
Knowledge isn’t power, it just makes you feel worse.
Being too depressed, too suicidal, too manic to function is draining in the worst way.
Sometimes you just want to be happy but that isn’t always the case.
Sometimes you just want to cry your heart out but it’s just a waste.
Sometimes you want to live and survive; sometimes you want to die and end it all.
Living for something or living for nothing matters not.
It’s the functionality, the purpose you serve to yourself that does.
This too shall pass but alas, in its fleeting moments it is almost unbearable.
“Maybe,” you say, it’s but a whisper.
You know that you’ll be okay someday; just not today.
Let’s try again tomorrow.