Disappearing into the milk
Silver goes for a swim
And a thunderous whirlpool

I have had enough,
My fears surround me like when dark clouds surround the sky in storms.
My silence is louder than the thunder,
Yet it is unheard.
Thousand times I broke,
I broke into the pieces of glass that slips out of your hands in shock.
Pain made me cold,
Thoughts made me vulnerable,
I am too scared of living,
Afraid of loosing more,
And tired of trying to escape.
The more I try to go far away from here,
The more it holds me,
I feel like I am stuck in whirlpool,
I am trying to get out but it won't let me.
I have had enough.

Lying teeth

-
         Creep
                                Dearer.
-
silence roars.
The closer it contracts,
further it draws away.

Astonished to find
You're still confined inside
Your mind.

Destroy the weaker
and hide behind reticulum.

In the realm
of a hollow crown
I absconded,
endeavoured to uncover.

I‘ve left myself behind,
an inch
beneath water

                                     decorous

A wisp of smoke
as it climbs.

Carry your shame,
rise to the chime,
an unfamiliar invitation.
Bring your mind back around,
around to this
                                    callous.

The room begins to gratify;
You tax,
obambulate,
              depress.
                       ­            diminished.


Penduluming
will never
mollify,
                           placate.


The moment you appreciate,
               Passing.
-
Treasure motive
abhor being.

Be succinct.
Prove,
Demonstrate.

Can the ocean really get flooded?.
when the ocean in my brain gets flooded ......

my thoughts are tangled up
in the tornado twisting and turning
in my head surrounding my brain that fight
through the tossing thoughts, emotions and
feelings that my lips may have trouble speaking
my pen is the oar I use to pull my drowning soul
out from the troubles waters

The ship wreck of words sail through
the rough thinking waters running fast
causing a whirlpool headache as they
fight pushing and clawing at my brain walls
yet surviving thoughts that were able to brake
free from the storm of depression they smudge
a trail through the dripping wet ink falling from
my oar of a writing pen dragging behind the
clustering drift wood of lost words smearing
through the lines of the solid land of paper

my brain calms down a bit to inspect the
rest stop of provided free range of open
writing space clearing the way for all the
injured broken pieces of memories and
lost thoughts that were still floating behind
the mind is trying to stay focus by thinking,
searching for any surviving notions or ideas
that hangs there on the tip of my tongue

tossing out the remembering lifesavers to
pull in other surfacing thoughts that wants
and need to be revived from the fallen debris
clustered crews of gathered thoughts form as
my pen holds the ink of hope and inspiration
dragging my down confused depressed soul
to safety by writing my trapped untold story

ink its flowing through the valleys of paper
marking detailing the saved unspoken words
freed from the clutches of depressions prison
my brain can now release its story through my
scrawling pen that I hold in my writing hand

There are always traps of frustration, confusion and
depression; which is the worse pitfall of them all
the war from the thinking process is never over
preparing for their battle I take the action to grab
the already loaded weapon for writing; the "INK PEN"

Who made you the centre of my universe?
Because it sure wasn't me.
Do you think that I want my life to revolve around you?
like i'm just a planet orbiting the sun,
A pair of jeans in the washing machine
Or flotsam in a whirlpool.
I don't suppose you'd understand,
How dizzy I get,
after a day around you
Or even a few moments.
How I can't keep my balance
And the world sort of tips
till' everything is inside out
backwards and all mixed up.
Except you.
because for some reason
the only stable thing
in this topsy-turvy world
is you.

With a body of curves, like no other, a true image of the magnificent, celestial mother.

And flowing as a spring with infinite roar, yet one small detail one could not ignore.

Her hair was a torrent, a weathering storm, scattering birds, attracting lightning; a whirlpool in form.

This visage, this appearance, so strange, so bizarre; face of spinning waters, as brilliant as stars.

Falling in love with her, into her flows, where everyone knows where the torrid passion goes.

In drowning descent, never returning from the throes, Land of Sleep, a beast awaits; the awful Kro-nos.

Two wayward souls lost at sea
Depression weighed heavy on he
Terrified of this cold world was she

Drifting alone,
The sea salt saps hope
Of a good life, even as the storm passes
This tired man flats into the Abyss

Drifting alone,
The dark ocean pulls at pad foots
No concept of love, an void concept
Abandoned home, drowning her tears

By nature's fortune, enter the whirlpool
Which graciously accepts the lost
Drifting together into the danger
The torrents send them off
Two wayward souls lostin each other.