Every night I stay awake
Then curse upon the sun
Until my dreams can swallow me
And from myself I run
Stumbling up the stairway
I ignore the field of flags
Convince myself they’re burgundy
And shred them into rags
......
Sometimes I feel like I'm sinking.
Like I'm being pulled down by an invisible force
Unable to bring myself back up.
I feel like I'm slowly being dragged under a quicksand that is impossible to escape.
I've been sinking for most of my life.
I've found comfort the sand.
After a while the sand drowns my feelings.
My legs go numb and I no longer feel the pain.
......
No-hope Tuesdays have become my favourite
as i fall deeper into a sense of helplessness of a blissful kind
a dull,full moment of acceptance.
And many empty ones of grief.
the bar is falling lower everyday
spirits down swimming in the depths of the
depressions in the ocean floor of my soul
that's where my joy hides.
And love
but i haven't seen her in a while.
......
Ik ademde in wat zij nooit zeiden
en noemde het zuurstof.
Schoon. Leeg.
Vrij van wortels
en van groei.
Ik groef me los uit hun dromen
tot mijn handen niets meer vasthielden.
Ik leek op niemand,
En niemand keek terug.
......
Fallen leaves
A lack of green
My brush strokes on the canvas
I paint the sands in all it's Tanness
Cactus thorns and rows of corn
Snow and rain
Confusing pain
Light with no sun and Laughter with no fun
I'm not understanding
Trees in the sand
......
His story had started
But he wanted to end it
His story had started
With all the feelings he blended
Right foot then left foot
He began to wobble
Right foot only
He began to hobble
He reached out for help
but he couldn't find it
......
In shadows deep where silence weaves,
A heart once warm now softly grieves.
Beneath the weight of a heavy night,
Hope flickers dimly, just out of sight.
Cold whispers echo in my hollow chest,
Where joy once danced and light found rest.
The colors fade to ashen gray,
In the mirror's eyes—what’s left to say?
......
In the quiet of dusk,
where shadows stretch like weary fingers,
scars whisper their secrets,
etched on skin like old stories,
maps of time and heartache.
Ghosts wander through the corridors of memory,
flickering just out of sight,
their breath a chill that dances on exposed veins,
reminders that we are never truly alone in our darkness.
......
Fallen leaves
A lack of green
My brush strokes on the canvas
I paint the sands in all it's Tanness
Cactus thorns and rows of corn
Snow and rain
Confusing pain
Light with no sun and Laughter with no fun
I'm not understanding
Trees in the sand
......
Every night I stay awake
Then curse upon the sun
Until my dreams can swallow me
And from myself I run
Stumbling up the stairway
I ignore the field of flags
Convince myself they’re burgundy
And shred them into rags
......