Midnight
I'm out for a stroll,
I greet the devil
Out there collecting souls.

It's been a while
since I've written,
maybe I was trying to forget
the pain that I felt
when I put words on the paper,
or maybe it was just regret
of the life gone by
people left detached,
maybe this does not make any sense at all
this uncertainty
is not good for my sanity,
all I need in this world of maybes
is just some security.

a distant thought of
an intimate dream where
my life depended on me
putting emotions into words
everyday,
writing something
that makes me think
of myself as a decent and productive
human being
somewhere in the herd,
contributing
trying to raise the bar
of  critical thinking
in a thoughtless world
it wasn't so mechanical
so I would be on autopilot
but rather its a journey
a transformation,
always growing
perplexed yet again
at that thought of being
satisfied and optimistic,
looking into the mirror
vacillating as always
who am I today?
what will I get done?
being involved in another
facade or just flow
like water
lacking pretence,
waiting to be profound
over the baggage of rebound
longing both to be
known and hidden,
letting the significant moments
of my life
pass in little incidents
will I take these words
and dive in deep?
or simply give up
and go to sleep?

there's a fight
outside,
but also
within me
who will win today?
will I be cheerful or despondent,
hopeful or sans it,
I just wish to
win over yesterday
for it is
my enemy.

I feel like an open book
not just some words on paper,
with still some story to tell
trying to mean something greater.