It’s not that she doesn’t wanna write anymore, but her fingers don’t see the point in dragging some Letters to form meaningless sentences.
She digs deeper into her skin, leaving ****** marks, smearing them into a circle.
Taking that as a reply to her inner question “who are you?” To which this answers loud and clear- a sewer rat.
You heard me, a rat.

My head is throbbing
My heart is pumping
The world is unbecoming
I am the sun king

There's a door
That's me in the mirror
I could fall apart in the glass
Just like that, I could collapse

I'm on my own two feet
I have the strength to stand
Burning bridges page by page
Throwing a dart and hoping it lands

It's the rush that had me
Sweating, racing cars
Then the adrenaline kicked in
I was burning the path above the stars

Now I can't get up in the morning
Without having a short term goal
What should I do to the windows
Is there an ultimate code?

There was a ghastly angel
That once told me,
Through glittery eyes
And stolen souls,
That if man burns enough,
She'll let them go

Bows of light, the one above all
Break this fool, make him forget he saw
I had a weird dream just then
There was an end, my best friend

I'm awake now and it's morning
I gave a smile to the birds chirping
Hello my winged friends,
Did you make a deal with the dead?

We have a lemon tree outside
But I prefer something sweet
I am roasting alive, I don't know why  
Do you want something to eat?

Im going to bed now
Let the song be red
If up is all I can go
I'll surely end up misled

II

Blue base and pink hues, black lining, framing the face saw once in dreams, a face with a name that began with the letter M. The other painting – a hazy black, red lips, no eyes – is a man’s face. Flying across shadowed, spiralling stairs, I encountered exits blocked by chairs – all these impressionist paintings hanging along the corridor, where a painter was explaining to his students the woman he met in his dream… they all called to me as a dream factory, dream logic – where everything was bound and unburdened, and we were told to identify faces in these coffin paintings. All day we tried matching, mouth stuttering half-formed names, lost faces, amputated body parts, strangers’ fragmented memory. Then the old lady I was working with let out a wail. She bolted, I followed, and there we saw creatures known as man and woman – to the woman on the right, she greeted with the M-lettered name, and to the man on the left she pointed at the eyeless painting, said, stranger, this is you– and they wept together.

From a long and dusty farm road
there was a scarecrow waving
Standing on a pole in a cornfield
meanwhile the sun was blazing

I started walking up to him
and when I was almost near
It took of his straw hat, gave a smile
and told me to have no fear

Welcome visitor he shouted
would you like to play a game
please enter my corn maze for a walk
and if you get lost just call my name.

then with an elegant swing
he'd opened the gate
Told me not to rush
he was opened until late.

The maze was well maintained
paths were clean and wide
rabbits running all around
it was a beautiful sight

But then all of a sudden
scenery drastically changed
corn was brown and dead
daylight seemed deranged

I got the creepiest feeling
that I was being spied
somebody was watching me
opaque to my sight

Suddenly I was on the ground
I must have tripped over a stone
after taking a closer and better look
it turned out to be a human bone

It's a ****** mess I am in now
I have really lost the way
how to get out of this maze
what did that scarecrow say

In order to get out the maze
I have to call his name
he can guide me back to start
and end this sinister game

Orphic music started playing
when it came to my mind
He did not even mention his name
I was being there confined

The word of God
Is neon now-
It screams odious
Love to the silent
Collection of limbs
Beneath it.

Iridescence
Falls in irradiated
Waves, reaches the
Sedate, the wanderers
Of Asphalt Nightmares,
At last.

They can hardly hear it
Over the mumble of voices.
They shift, leave by way
Of saturated, naked streets
Steeped
In weariness.

The new God is
Neon- but all the same
Unheard; It's violent lights
Looking to the morally
Righteous; finds
No one.

sometimes its comforting, the dark
its like a veil
its like a fog
it surrounds you, and although its cold in a weird way its,
familiar
like its always there,
but sometimes you get too comfortable
fall in too deep
and feel safe where you shouldn't
its hard to get out when it feels right
like its where you belong
where you deserve to be,
in the dark
in the fog
in the cold
and after the light is always too bright,
the air too warm
its too perfect,
and you were right
because you know what comes next
it always comes next,
the darkness
so why not accept it?
why not stay?
since it always comes back,
the light always dims
the warmth always leaves,
it gets smothered by the wind and the rain
and now the matches are wet
so
you cannot relight it,
when all you need is a spark but
you cant get one,
but why not wait for them to dry
because the rain never seems to stop
it just keeping going
washing away everything
making you blank,
making you empty,
it blends the days together
when there is no light, no way to tell
how long its been
or
how much longer
and then one day
it stops
and the light is back,
the warmth fills you up until you overflow,
but your so scared to lose it again you don't even care,
it's almost scary how much you missed it,
but even in the most perfect moments
its always there
making you wonder
how long will it last
and its hard to enjoy it when you know
one day the
darkness
always comes back
so the rain starts, the cold comes and
what's the point of putting in the energy
when it will always fade, will always dim
because the cold days get more
and more
and more
frequent,
until you cant remember the warmth
until you don't even want it
because,
the cold becomes comfortable
and that's all we want,
right?
to be comfortable
to feel safe
to feel something
to feel the cold is better than to feel nothing,
right?
at least the cold reminds you you're alive,
that you still are here
until one day you aren't
because the darkness gets us all
and in a weird way its almost
nice,
to know one day we will all have the same fate,
no matter how hard we try
no matter what
the darkness always wins
so,
why not find comfort in it?
the darkness.