I was feeling
down
depressed
and dark.
I put
some
rocks in my
cup
to uplift my
spirits,
to climb
out of the hole.

I want to
run on
the clouds
and
touch the sun;
go 180 around
the third turn.
Feel nothing but
the wind;
go out like
Earnhardt Sr.
in
a blaze of
glory.
Last lap
last run.

False claims and exploding stars.
A thousand years late from where we are.
I've been searching for the center of my universe too,
And
As I get closer,
I gravitate towards you.

It is about timing
and the willingness to act
I had the willingness but never the timing

Half of it is grace and the other is your own hand

the moon is my friend
she cradled me in my past life
she handed me to my mother when it was time for a new one
she gave me fruit when i was younger
sometimes she leaves
but she always returns

I’d like to think
I’ve always been good
But I know very well
What’s under this hood

Things I’ve done
Still make me cringe
Once my shadow
Was on that fence

But the good news
Other than an emotional wound
Bad karma doesn’t mean you’re doomed!

The flowers of Anhedonia grows upon me,
Its roots engulf my whole being.
Serendipity long lost, Only the remains of this wintercearig feeling inside this small yet feeble vessel.
I don't know what to do or what to say; maybe to fill up that satisfaction I crave.
Mind slowly turning insane,
I keep things to myself, and that's all that I can say.
All the florets blossom in the longing shade;
of darkness that might never fade,

Anhedonia.

Your love was a fire you lit only sometimes,
leaving me otherwise of its warmth deprived.
The emotional heaving of my chest
for the pain you caused me was best
expressed in the dark of night,
where you couldn't see my inner fight.

Your love was not just a stab to my chest
but a slow twist of the knife.
I was left to mend myself alone,
then perform as though I was brand new
every time.