i'm always asked why my eyes are so dreary
why i'm always yawning
why i can barely keep my eyes open
it's because my eyes are always open during the night
i can't seem to drift off into the night
and get the numbered hours of rest i need
my thoughts occupy my mind
keeping me awake
at all hours of the night

darkness and void filled her like a glass
being filled with wine
feeling helpless and lost

the world is a dark place for her
it is an empty
black
onyx hole of nothingness
she felt as if she was drowning constantly
feeling like she could never breathe
quite deeply and fully

the worst part
was when she was watching everyone
watching everyone breathe just fine
while she was suffocating

she has no one to save her
no one to throw her a life safer
or a life guard to dive in to save her

she had no one to save her from drowning
in the dark nothingness
called the world

- m

Never fall in love with a poet
for their words are sometimes lies
on occasions they're a shield
on occasions a disguise

They will take you on a journey
upon which they bare their soul
in a bid to ease your burdens
in a bid to make you whole

But in every word they choose
for the stories that they tell
lies a little piece of heaven
and a little piece of hell

Tormented souls we poets are
sometimes quite broken and despaired
in search of lost expressions
missed by others who once cared

Never fall in love with a poet
unless you're prepared to share their pain
to hold them close on the darkest nights
over and again

my friends they ask me
why i haven’t packed.
i say i do not know.
when really it is quite obvious,
i have difficulties
with letting go.
before i pack all my belongings
before i’m ready to leave the nest
i must pack up my soul
and carry in it all i love.
i need to take with me
all those times my mom
made me chocolate chip pancakes.
i have to
memorize the faces of every one
of my friends
until i can recall each of
their smiles and traits.
i want to fold my grandpa’s laughter
like a shirt that i can tuck away
in the drawer of my mind.
and i want to hold on
to those moments,
the one’s that make letting go
so hard.
i think that if i manage
to pack up
every bit of my heart,
then it won’t matter
what i put inside my luggage.
i will always be carrying
home.
no matter how far
we are apart.

Who knows?
Honestly nobody does
The path that lies ahead
Can make you alive or dead

Can make you alive or dead
Dead, living but stuck on the same place
Alive, struggling to overcome difficulties
Alive, someday defeating all adversaries

Yeah, the path ahead may be ideal
Bright, warm, promising and sunny
Straight, smooth and not winding
A bit boring but hey its soothing

Want the truth?
It's usually never like that
What's ahead can be dark and eerie
Gloomy, hopeless, twisty and thorny

Wow writer, so much for inspire
Shhhhhh, keep reading
It's not easy to make these rhyme
So spare me some patience and time

Yeah yeah, I know.
Rather than the happy smooth drive
You get the stormy seas and skies
Want to know why?

What lies ahead will be a soul crusher
Your heart might waver, vision may falter
Emotions would fluster, strength could shatter
You'll be lost and tired, rest but don't surrender

Afraid?
Who isn't?
Isn't it scarier to live never finding out
Regret of lacking bravery but having an abundance of doubts

Yes the path can be demotivating
And absolutely overwhelmingly terrifying
But have you ever seen unguarded treasure?
Something amazing lies ahead, I'm sure.

It won't be easy
I wish it was but it usually won't
It's alright to be afraid and uncertain
Rest, clear your thoughts, then fight again.

You'd never know what's at the end
Without taking that first step
And to be continuously walking
So rest if you're tired but keep going

The feeble breeze of a winter forest
Piercing the fabric of darkness and death
Feared by man- the Night of eternal rest
The air is itself a final breath.

A weary woodland of spirits soar
Beneath sauntered limbs of low rapport.
Rapping at the dead blue moon
The black void, a lifeless cocoon.

(Beneath the dirt long forgot,
Their bones festooned.)

In its damp soil sowed the dead
Decayed by a pessimist fate
And atop, blood of fresh flesh covered red
The pale winter pyre of a cold cynic’s hate.

A forest of somber spirits
Wed by death, succumb to a stately shadow.
Unknown to the glee of sheer mortal man
Left by Death in a nameless land.

I saw my life as a sunset
Always waiting for sunrise
It seemed that night was forever
Day was non-existent

Until I realised
My fear was the darkness
I had to emerge
Find a new confidence

So I woke up today
Prepared for something new
Looked up into the sky
And light came through.