I have good days
and bad days
and I'm lost in between.
Chaos took me by my hand
like it was his own
just to watch me
**** my dreams.

The future is looming over me
watching every step i take
waiting for my life to fade.
I never do fade.
I live in the present
living for my parents
living for my friends and
never for myself.
Healing from the past
still wearing a gas mask.
Stuck in images of my own wars
how many lives I’ve changed
for better
for worse.
He is the worst,
the ghost of the man in the mirror.
His pale skin hushed in the moonlight
eyes red as the fire in his stomach.
I'm left hoping for a future
where this ghost could be alive.

I erased all the words about him
yes, removed completely from my works
because shame is all I feel when I look back
a guilt so heavy and repressed
so quieted and tucked away
I pledge to myself I must never mention it
and vow to try and rid the wicked from my mind
mistakes I’ve made and made again
sorrows so burdensome that I not even look
that myself, so ignorant and blind
dare toss away a future for a moment
I shudder at my folly
I wonder why I was so blind then
so swept up in a great faux pas
how naive I was! how childlike and gullible
this I must confess

Within
stirs a persistent bane

birthed
while on her Mother’s knee

Now her bones
grate against the chair
amid her rhythmic rocking
that breaks the dim silence


Images reverberate

on the back walls
of her mind

Disquietude prompts alarm

as her obsessions claw
to unearth graves

of fears

she pretends are invalid

Her desire to flee

from reminders of falsehoods

and fake passions

nags her endlessly

like unforgivable sins

haunt a cloistered sister

Neither pleas, nor prayers
quell her ruminations.

I'm prophetic and live my life through others words,
I'm socratic and will accept death when it's my turn.
All my knowledge is fulfilled with conjecture,
I'm painfully obsequious when involving niche lectures.

I'm fitting with paranoia and it riddles my brain;
Obsessed with the thoughts of passing away,
As time slips away quicker and quicker everyday.

My perception is perceived but acknowledge my sentience and you'll see;
There's a dark soul deep inside of me.

Tonight feels like my last fight as I write with a knife;
My sallow eyes drift aside as my hope for a better life resides,
And the pen I call a knife inches closer to stealing my life.
As I lay back and stare into the black corner of this one-track world of false fact;
I realise in my transient fit of thought that there's no going back.

My perception is perceived but acknowledge my sentience and you'll see;
There's a dark soul deep inside of me.

Do you ever lie in darkness,
Wondering if you will be
The star of some great epoch
In books of history?

Do you ever fear you'll fail,
And let everyone down
That expected you to be someone,
Instead of to be drowned?

There are so many expectations
For you to change the world
To deny is to refuse
Your duty.