god
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When will it get old?
The more days that pass it’s me that ages. I stuff myself in holes of immaturity and self doubt, buying my way into the fancies of life. When will it get old? Maybe in due time—maybe never. I don’t mind the fits of sadness and despair—craving, desire, and moments of…
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I’M BLOW TORCHING MY LIFE
AND IT’S ALL ON PURPOSE! Action. Real action; is all I crave. Why must I be like this? A poet? at best. An ARTIST of life; painting my days as the most beautiful gruesome scene there is. Art. HA! Something I know nothing of—-sure. And that is why while you’re…
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Rip my soul out my chest
Because it feels like I can’t breathe. Distract me from my mistakes because it’s getting hard to see; contemplating therapy. God has a chokehold on me while the humans of this world pick at every scab on my skin. Is it sad I enjoy it? Is it sad I enjoy…
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Setting my life ablaze one day at a time
How dare I show my face here; how dare I show my face anywhere. Digging myself into a hole I may never get out of—voluntarily. My life has always been one of search and exploration; now it’s become one of craving and romanticism. I told my mom the other day…
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am I scared?
Do I have a reason to be? Others being scared for me—-scares me. Please stop. I’m more scared of things that have no matter. Not for my life. Away with it for all I care. Gruesome? Maybe. And still I laugh at the stupidity that spills out my mouth. Why…