Spring

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.

Circles

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.

Darkness

You never know what tomorrow holds.

The darkness on your face,
shines brightly,
and slowly evolves and grows,
into a glimmer
stuck in space.

All the light
and I can’t quite see it.
It goes past me,
with all its radiant might.

Run away with me tomorrow,
and jump into the darkness,
all away from the brights,
may it bestow on us
all what awaits,
awaits us tomorrow.

Holy

Holy you say?

Burning holes everywhere,
taking a plunge into nowhere.

Despair and lust,
leaving me chewed and through,
like scattered dust.

Thinking of you right now,
collapse again,
as I glisten and shine in the sun.

The holes getting bigger and holy,
a shrine for souls forgotten and abused,
by your holiness.

Struggle

Struggling is always fun!

Struggling and suffering,
trying to stay afloat.

Lying on my bed,
wishing I was on a boat,
stranded in the middle of the ocean
with the waves carrying my soulless soul,
deep down to the ground, into my final resting hole.

Seething with the mundane everyday,
adding to the wallowing misery at bay.

Facing the mirror,
obsolete, and full of demise and joy,
I prance around like a lunatic
waving to death,
who’s reluctant and coy.

‘Should I save him, or should I not’
‘Should I save him, or should I not’

Whispers

Is anyone else hearing this?

Sounds creeping and crawling through my ears,
as my soul trickles down like tears.

Is it a hum? Is it a whisper?
or is it just my fragile mind,
popping like a big fucking blister?

I hear it, I listen to it, I know it’s there,
but at the same time,
it can be anywhere.

Maybe it’s a mosquito,
buzzing in my head.
It stings my brain and leaves me dead.

All I know is,
the sounds and whispers are alive and alright,
but I’ll sure be glad
if they fade into the night.