October 2011
1 post
Happiness.
I found that happiness is the weirdest concept. Right now, it is 1:10 in the morning. It’s cold outside. I hate the cold. I have to wake up at 9 to get myself ready to attend a job that I can’t stand only to associate myself with a handful of people that I can’t stand. As of late, I find myself occupying my time floating around my own head. Asking myself who I am. Although I have...
July 2011
6 posts
Destiny.
Words scrawled catalog my memories through shattered pictures beating shallow hearts destroying selfless tendencies.
Destined for anything? Or nothing, like a bird locked in a cage.
Destined for anything? Or anyone, to make me feel sane.
My pen speaks words i’m afraid to say in a dim lit room I can barely stay in.
Homeless but home, that ship set sail when I found I can’t stand...
1 tag
Winter.
It was hard to see that day, or that week, or that month, or that season. Everyday I would place my fingers over my eyes to awake from a lackluster “sleep”, if you could call it that. I’ve been doing that as long as I could remember. A habit, my only one at that. I never knew for what reason, perhaps to drain out the concept of sleep for another twelve hours? Or maybe to hide...
1 tag
Suit and Tie.
Eleven pm. The pen clutched to the paper scrawled words he didn’t want to say. Fueled by coffee and hate. The bags under sea blue eyes were comparable to body bags. Each weighing 150 pounds. Underlined words explaining decisions, actions, and thoughts. A budding insomniac showing promise in nothing but a certainly doomed future. “Wouldn’t it be so wonderful?” he muttered under his breath “to have...
1 tag
Flowers.
When flowers are all you’ve got left,
and the petals all fall off. forward your “R.I.P’s” and memories straight to the cause of death.
you say you’d give it all for one last breath? i’d pay that just to take it back.
when the soils all dug up, and you’re histories all found out, you’ve made the grave yourself.
i’m putting all my words in similes, hoping my far off dreams, are not too few and...
1 tag
Heart(beat)
I’m tracing words in an unsure pen. faded black inscribed in a lined canvas plagued with thoughts. i’ll dub my paragraphs a memoriam to my state of mind. put it six feet under, pour water on it, and pray that it will grow. i’ll remain on the ground with my head to the sky. call it a false sense of security, or a skit i call my life. sign countless parcels of paper with words right from my heart....
1 tag
September 5th, 2010.
you know, life is a weird thing. endless as it seems; the end is just around the corner. beautiful and atrocious. a gift and a curse. living life to the fullest is a saying and idealogy that can be constructed in several different ways. some are constantly out, partying, self medicating, hanging out, or getting in a car and driving nowhere until the gaslight turns on. is that living life to the...
