Disconnected, floating
My mind is miles away
And I don't know how to return to myself
I am trapped in dreamland

h.f.m.

My teeth are an enamel cage, bared in a pearl-polished snarl,
guarding the hateful words on my tongue—
my razor-tongue, craving blood drawn
from sharp wit and cutting retorts.

My voice is a savage, willful thing,
and unchecked wreaks chaotic, senseless havoc.
It would desecrate all that is holy with foul curses
and disparage friend and foe alike with vile slurs and slander.
Bitter irony and sarcasm are its weapons of choice
tearing into the flesh where it hurts,
where weaknesses have been laid bare,
an uncouth performance of a twisted humor
at the expense of everyone else involved.

And so I lock my lips and throw away the key
to prevent my keen eyes from becoming an accomplice to ******.
My voice would steal the secrets they see
and warp them into a mocking mimicry
to parrot to those who would only do more harm.

The syllables I speak are lethal.
I would rather be mute than wound with my words.

My teeth are an enamel cage, bared in a pearl-polished snarl,
guarding the hateful words on my tongue.

h.f.m.

So many people talk about the
Light at the end of the tunnel.
But they don’t talk about
What comes after that.
They don’t talk about how
The light blinds you when you get too close,
How it completely swallows you, and
How you’re left confused and bewildered afterwards.
No one tells you that change can hurt you,
Internally- the worst way-
Turning your whole world upside down.
No one talks about how the
Light at the end of the tunnel can also be
The light of an oncoming train.

If I were to die today
would I have any
regrets?
Would I wish for a redo
a chance to fix my
mistakes?

If I were to die today
would I feel a sense of
triumph?
Would I look back on
what I have done and feel
pride?

If I were to die today
would anyone
mourn?
Would anyone come
to my funeral and
cry?

If I were to die today
would I want another
life?
Would I wish to be
given a choice to be
reborn?

If I were to die today
would I do it all
again?

h.f.m.

I have been in love every day of my **** life
I have fallen in love with every **** person I've ever met
in my **** life

I know what love is, I just don't understand how
you can concentrate it all into
one person, exclusively dedicating
this corrosive passion to
a singular individual.

How can you call this
elusive, all-encompassing sensation
holy?
How can you love only one
above all others?

I have fallen in love with humanity
and cannot hope to keep my head above these waves.

h.f.m.

What is life?
Something that jabs with a knife.

What is pride?
Something that is like cyanide.

What is happiness?
Something that is aeneas.

Why is happiness represented by yellow?
Merely because it was decided by a fellow.

Why is life in shambles?
Because the path is covered in brambles.

Why is pride masked by woe?
Because we all feel part of a sideshow.

The face
Bent, taunt, contorted
The smile
Torturing, teasing, abhorrent

The body
Deformed, beastly, unsightly
The aura
Malevolent, sinister, formidable

It.
Something that lingers.
In wait.
Preying.

Your doe-like eyes
Glisten
Project
And light the skies.

Your child-like bark
Gleeful
Plentiful
And light a spark.

Our eternal love
Fits one another like a glove.

“I love you,” you say,
But I hear,
“I’m just lusting after you.”
“I need you,” you say,
But I hear,
“I'm just keeping you around
Until someone else better comes.”
“You're beautiful,” you say,
But I hear,
“You're fake, you're nothing
Underneath all that makeup.”
“You're talented,” you say.
But I hear,
“I'm just trying to humor you
And make you feel better about yourself.”
No matter what you say,
Or how you say it,
I refuse to believe that I mean
Something to somebody.
I've been hurt too many times,
Been told I'm ugly,
Stupid,
Crazy,
Depressed.
All life has told me is that I'm
Worthless,
And I will never deserve anyone.
I'm sorry.
I'm just never enough.