Art in Process

90 days in 3 months i'm still sitting in the depths of disaster.
A ball of flames that's been burning in my heart for days.
A blizzard that's been surrounding me for weeks that I can't even explain the mess I made. The bitterness of resentment that's take-in place in my life that even it grieves its own mortality. In the last night dinner I cant consume without vomiting it out.
I can't describe  the feeling of happiness without wandering of in the distance of my dreams. I can't explain the bottle of thoughts that's conveyed in my head as spark of memory that I can't hardly remember.
I can't control the feelings that drowns in its own tears, but this is just a metaphor. A metaphor of thinking this is all real.
Going to class exhausted.
Being unorganized in school.
Having a mental breakdown
Where its all just a joke that's been said everyday just to get
a little laugh of someone else suffering.
Nights are just as cruel to me depression creeps around in dance around my heart as I shed tears onto my pillow. It pulls of the covers that comforts me with its own warmth, so I can wake up with a scream. It plays with my thoughts that hovers over my head, just to dig deep of what hurt me instead. In my own world in close by own  space, and my own little thoughts that I can't escape from.
These perceptions come to me one by one in then all shatter breaking promises with hope.
These dreams are the ones I chase for  when darkest moments arrive at the footsteps of my door.


This has been aching in my soul for 90 days in 3 months, but still I wander.