I haven’t given up,
But the energy inside me
has dimmed over time.

Life has swallowed me whole,
And I’m caught in the tide of a
never-ending spiral,
Drowning at every word.

Will I make it out of
this storm, or be carried away
by the waters, no sign of life
and screams left unheard?

I’m content with suffering,
but this emptiness inside me,
persists without warning.

I forgot how to feel,
Forgot how to smile,

The last time I felt
something,

I haven’t felt that
way in a while.

And so life
reminds me,

That no matter
what I do, or where
I go,

My problems always
follow me, even when
I’m alone.

I haven’t given up,
And I haven’t broken
down,

But I know my
problems won’t go away
until I’m six feet underground.

mornings are slipping away in a blur,
patterns of certain habitual sadness.
words with no meaning,
disease with no cure.
porcelain dolls, both lifeless and ageless.
haunted by visions, hidden in mirrors,
wrapped in despair, victims and sinners,
chasing the rush of the next final turn.
decades are slipping away in a blur.

My body,
Is here.
Yet my mind,
Is lost.
My soul,
Frozen,
Covered in frost.
And though joy exists,
I simply do not.
My brain
In a mist,
As my heart does rot.

I have woken up,

where am I? In an ocean --


of sleeping silence?

see the emptiness
in between things and moments
your mind is right there

Melodies of my soul in soft dulcet tones,
play through my mind once more in the night,

Emotion vibrating through my very bones,
to keep me company until the mornings light.

Words in the shapes of harmony and verse,
that give voice to my heart in purest sound.

To speak of an empty lonely universe,
and of a love my spirit never found.

How can flesh endure when a soul cries,
in relentless voice, in such a sad refrain.

While lament will pass at suns early rise,
A lonely soul knows, the song will come again.

The feeling of neutral,
Is bleak and bland.

For I cannot fathom
This life of random.
This feeling of doom,

It is present
Yet seldom.

It is static
And paralytic.

I feel erratic.

Yet I am calm,
Content.

But my mind,
Unresponsive,
Perhaps braindead.

My sanity,
Decreased
To the thinnest thread.

As this feeling of neutral,
Has emptied my head.

when day breaks and brazen stands the sun
as if to say, it is day, the storm has passed
once more
you lay in a pool of soft sand, a whisper of what once was
fists clenching and unclenching
silence so deafening you ache
it feels so unpleasant, this ease
comfort was not meant for you, where do you even place yourself in a scene meant for someone else?
you make suffering your home
the cold tiles a cornerstone
but the suffering has ended in spite of you
of all your pleas to stay in a race for survival
trotting on battered rubble-bound roads
and despite it all
you are safe and free
the sun lapses in providing warmth
but never stills
and neither have you
before now

and yet
happiness does not creep in, nor does it knock
nor barges or in wanders
you are left empty in a filled space
almost to the point of combustion
and this is how you shall stay
shivering, the rays hurling themselves at any surface besides you
fruitless, the suffering meant so very little besides all that you knew
empty, just as the space next to you