The stars have abandoned us. The very soldiers called to save them - the only ones who dared look at the sun and not look away. It’s hard to understand why.
We sit silently, awaiting answers we know we’ll never get. Shall I call out, in hopes that some God will respond? In hopes that we’ll be saved?
No, I won’t. These few minutes that I have left will not be wasted on false hope, because that’l...
I spoke to Death last week;
he sounded eerily like you,
and a little bit like me.
Before then, I hadn’t seen.
I hadn’t had the chance to search,
and, quite frankly, I wasn’t keen.
But then he reached out,
making his presence known.
He pocketed the dead,
and no empathy was shown.
I didn’t expect to talk
until he had me on the phone.
He said, “When you need to,
you throw the dog a bone....
It's the human part of me
that wants and wants,
and is never satisfied.
I gorge on handfuls
of hope,
gathered over countless years,
And every day, I try.
But I fail
and walk the road,
leading to my ultimate demise.
I pray for the rain,
And cry
for the stars.
I write
for the world's pain,
And bandage
its scars.
Every day,
I try.
...
Today, I will gently pick myself apart,
correcting each one of my flaws
until I am cleansed of all my sins
until I am reduced to bones and devoid of any skin
satisfying that frightening desire to gaze within
Today, I will lace my shoes with precision and care
as I walk for hours, days, and nights,
I will polish them until they brilliantly glare
following sunsets and embracing every light
Uncerta...
I bury my head in the dirt so deep
hiding from the world, I silently weep
I know very well you are still here
I see your eyes, I sense your fear
I know very well, it is not fair
memories fade, and God doesn’t care
my voice echoes, but words are rare
my screams travel with the birds
but end up silent, just like my words
If it were possible, if I could
I’d give my life, I really would
I'd run thr...
I’ve heard the stars talking,
The moon singing as we’re walking,
You say, almost mocking,
The end of the world is nothing shocking.
On the streets, there lay gifts unwrapped,
I remember the children as they once clapped,
Forever, we remain trapped,
We must learn to adapt.
Time will tick, tick, tick,
It’s a cruel, evil trick,
To be freed we must be quick,
We must be slick.
The streets are m...
On the day of my funeral,
I escaped from your un-held grasp
I ran to an empty field and made a wish —
On an already-blown dandelion
I slept in that field for a very long while
Many days later I returned home
I set down my un-brought luggage
And I gave my non-existent mother a smile
On the day of my funeral
I forgot my own name
I forgot who I was —
Who you wanted me to be
And, most im...
I do not necessarily understand the plot—the one which I carefully scraped from every inch of my idea-bubbling brain and pieced together to create a masterpiece. No, it doesn’t quite make sense. After every page I write, I stand up and walk outside to stare out into nothing.
“Nothing”, that’s silly of me to say—I stare out into everything, and sometimes I talk to my father but usually I cannot b...
If only…
This gun pointed at my head was real,
Yet, it’s metaphorical.
Do you see the pain you caused?
Don’t worry, that’s rhetorical.
I plead for the rain to stay,
To put out this evil flame,
From the world we built and burned away,
Pieced together, then tore astray.
The things you see, you will never forget,
You can pray as you want, you can repent,
In this world, so grand, unbelievably ...
"Damn." the man next to me said, his face drained of color. The airplane had just lifted off the ground.
I felt the urge to ask him what had happened, but I remained silent, as did he. Occasionally, I would glance over at the man, attempting to read his expression but it had gone eerily dull. My mind raced. Was there a bomb on board? Was a hijacking in progress?
The minutes dragged on like hour...