I hate this time of year.


The spring is ending,
bending all in it’s way.
Summer on the horizon
with disappointment and regret,
with failure stacked up,
like an organized stack of hay
embedded within my being.

The sorrow, the sorrow,
nothing can be said about it.
It hits while you’re on your way,
towards nothing.

That’s the effect of springtime on me.
I’m going towards the unknown,
or better yet,
the unknown is chasing me.

Fuck you spring,
I sincerely mean that.


Round and round she goes.

I could hear the noise
coming from a near distance.

Frantic breathing,
sweat trickling down her forehead,
whirling and running
into a synchronous of perfection.

Hopes and fears,
and realizations of a life lost,
with nothing dear,
a hefty price and cost.

The screaming and the circles,
all what’s left now.

The only perfection she managed,
a soul abused and damaged,
was the spirals she forged as she wept,
the cries she shouted with neglect.


Being lost and hopeless sucks, doesn’t it?

Losing sense as I clasp to my sanity.

Tumbling along the rocky mountain,

There I seek solitude along the heights.

A string of air upon my face,

Memories shine down like footprints,

Long walks on the beach with myself,

Your face an instant memory.

My mind lost within itself,

Hopes and dreams unseen, unfulfilled,

Forgotten and wasted;

Forever remorseful.

I remember you as you were,

Distant and never near,

A stranger walking by me, right be me,

I take a glance.

Your eyes, a glaze special and distinct,

Blinds me every time I recall the perfection.

Lost but never lost,

The paradox that forever twirls around,

Like a noose hanging around my neck.

I look at the ground, and remember the heavy cost,

A price so big I never dared to pay.

Fear and hopelessness in check,

I paid eventually.

I lost what I never had.


I’m going slightly mad.