I'm my mother's blood and bone
Features on my face are shown
Identical birthing hips
More alike the more I have grown  

And same bit of mischief is harbored in my eyes
In a slightly browner shade to focalize
Motionless in front of reflection transfixed
Cannot help but overanalyze

But on a binge of self-pitying despair
How can I mosey forward with only memories there?
Similarities between are reminders everywhere I turn
Her soul absent and I am all too aware

It comes and goes in undulations of pain
Lost in labyrinth lurking in my brain
Crippled by spilled love that will never return
Only empty echoes within broken heart remain

The succor of strumming overtakes her
as the moon climbs high;
if she plays late enough, she will not sleep,
will let hours slip by,
will become midnight's muse, or something else ---

another song for the morning

Sometimes
life feels
like a bird without wings
to fly high
sometimes
life feels like
a sunny day without shines
sometimes
life feels like bones
without flesh
like a corpse
that nobody
wants to be around.
sometimes
life feels like a last breath
like a fish  gasping for water.
sometimes
life feels
like it’s *******
fed up with me
and you know what,
I’m fed up with it too.