The things going on here
I should just be happy
I can’t not feel restless
And just want to cry
Every which way I’m turning
I am haunted
It greets me
I discover myself
Overwhelmed and depressed
There are things
Come in waves
Wipe you out
As you ride them
And develop a sense
Of what’s under the surface
All I want for myself
Is to let it all go
And to at the same time
Draw it all the more near
There are some things
I’ve done with regret
Unmistakably
And with happy result
Still I know how it feels
Just to long
In your gut
Just to want to undo it
Just to look at the clock
Willing time to rewind
I have not figured out yet
How to wield all my powers
Without wearing me down
All my strength has been stripped
And I’m stressed out
I’m slipping
Trying to hold it together
Although ninety percent
Of the daylight I cry
I don’t know what I’m doing
Or just quite how it feels
I remain on the run
From this one thought
To chase me
I can’t catch my breath
And my brains in a whirl
All around me is strange
Gone too quickly to process
There’s a block
Where it slows
From my heart
To my headache
And my limbs
And these feet
Oh my god
Just forget it
I have little control of
What’s pushing me through this
They all say
Just be happy
There is no right and wrong
There is no good regret
To hold strong
While you’re living
Because you are still living
But just think
When you’re not
There’s a world that remains
And still gets on without you
In a way there’s some comfort
In the scope of indifference
From the earth
Springs a baby
No intention of swaddling
Just to sit for its sentence
Of a century or less
There are some undeniable
Concepts to comfort
To quiet your troubles
If only for one instant
There’s a price that you pay
For that sort of avoidance
The internalized rift
Shifts and cracks even further
But the surface is steady
And it’s easier outside
To ignore these sensations
Since the future is scary
There will be no more crying
There will be no more sunsets
We will all remain nameless
Without pride or a conscience

it doesn’t have to be like this

now the sun is beating harder and i can see the little buds on her potted plants shriveling; she never comes home to give them any water anymore. last summer she lived in her garden. there is no explanation for the things we do. when interest dies out and dries up - nobody cares to stick around and think back maybe to why it happened

i guess that’s what growth is : you only can see the stems and blooms of flowers, you’d have to dig into earth if you wanted to see roots. by that point, it’d be apparent that the base of a plant belongs in the dirt and once again, it would be covered.

there is no such thing as

the right combination

there is no known solution

it’s just anything goes

it’s okay to be restless

it’s okay to be boundless

we don’t need any limit

to be told when to stop

and beyond concrete fixtures 

past the overgrown asphalt

there’s a wild that’s endless

we’ve been trained to deny

but then sometimes i’m weak

i’ll admit that I struggle 

letting fate take it’s route

letting go as it does

i’ve been bussed around waiting

i’ve been tricked into thinking

that this power i wield

is just out of my hands

can’t deny it —

i’m stubborn

and i know expectation

is the worst institution

there’s no use in surmising

current state of affairs

because each angle’s different

every second is shifted

both conception and wreckage

sprout and thrive in this light

to capture, release

disregard, remain sleeping

we are made to respond 

within these same four lines

from the sun’s beam —

been faded

and reveals only shaded

of where nothingness glowed

where it’s aura was traced

in my head there’s a story

being told within patterns 

double sided and yet

one remains to be seen

it’s created inside me

once it’s finished entirely 

unveils intricate confines

to which i was once tied

here the beauty is lost

and we shake to develop 

the final two thirds

of the image unknown

with the picture turned over

i’ve been told this side’s clearer

but there’s sometimes conclusion

made to reach on your own

only light as a glimpse 

only people as hints

i have yet to know someone

i mean, really —

to know

I’ve been dried by the sun

and my skin shrunk to fit me

I woke up in a panic

and i ran out the door

translation corrupts every spoken idea

there is nothing in the way of exactly what you want

everything is within your grasp and you are perfectly capable of having it 

just as you could imagine even in your most exciting dream

except for your own pride and ego, understand that anything that has

solidified itself in the brain as tangible thought is at arms length since

anticipation preceded reality, the want and will for existence strengthens it

requiring no exertion of force — unnecessary to flex even one muscle

holding in the palm any solidified object is merely to realize its being

the mind entails powers in this right which allow everything to exist

and is boundless in its allowance regardless of abuse and exploitation

creation is without discrimination, this is both benefit and drawback

to utilise and manipulate once this power is fully uncovered and known 

the planes that you are entertaining are only those that you endeavor to see

or are predisposed and revealed to (those are considered lucky exceptions)

do not put yourself at any minor disadvantage by prejudging capability

in doing this we usually are incorrect, shortfalls and disappointment result

along with this regret and usually repeat of the same wrongdoings since

this level of consciousness is for learning and accepting, trial and error

and realization of every given space, be it empty or filled and appreciation

for beauty along with its antithesis, for time and its superseding.

with this it is to be understood all that i cannot say to go deeper in detail

i am limited by the characters that my limited knowledge of one language 

allows me and of this i am definitely ashamed of my passion for words

as they do not return the favor and are unflattering under my employment

however it is only a facet of the burden which is mine to bear under these 

conditions of this lifetime so it is beyond that which is deemed ‘necessary’

to voluntarily amuse myself with these trivial sentiments reaching no real

conclusion or satisfaction, instead knowledge beyond my realm and only

awareness that it is not mine for the taking and yet i eat my words again

… there is nothing in the way of exactly what you want

everything is within your grasp and you are perfectly capable of having it 

just as you could imagine even in your most exciting dream …

when it comes two a.m.

and the blinds aren’t shut

when you’re laying in bed

but not fully awake

and the moon out the window

on your bed sheet casts shadows

and it tricks you to thinking

you don’t need light to see

since you stood in a downpour

no more than five minutes

just to watch lightning strikes

that you never did witness

you’re not soaked but you’re wet

and don’t want to be warm

when you find you’ve no interest

in being content

it’s when crying don’t help

and sleeping won’t work

and your eyelids house springs

which prevent them to shut

and you think about poems

which you could write them down

but you realize you’re dying

and the pen is too far

you know sometimes i’m haunted

by what i once thought

i might be at sixteen when i 

only was six —

a whole year has gone by

and i feel myself hollow

while the baby i was still hangs on

— disappointed

there’s a hue between orange 

and pink in the middle

where the undescribed colors 

get together and cry

for they aren’t unnoticed 

only cleverly hidden 

revealed only to those

who find ‘almost’ worth mentioning

time i’ve spent on my thinking

only floating and bobbing 

i’m just drifting around

on the breeze in my mind

has been majorly spent 

amounting to probably 

years of my life considering how

the whole length i’ve been lonely

it’s my one consolation

surpassed only by dreams

they’re the kind you see waking

you might call reveries

but they’re riddled by logic

and reality driven

all their beauty bogged down

cause i don’t think poetic

and i can’t turn them off

they’re my thoughts

they’re my bullies

and the one thing i’m proud of

but i feel myself slipping

carried out on huge waves

i’m too heavy with thought

and i only can drown

cause it feels like a waste
all the time I’ve spent sleeping
and there’s nothing to show for
I can’t even dream
I never get rest and
refreshment eludes me
there’s a part of me weary
somewhere down deep inside

in my heart I can feel it
there’s a cracked open crater
and the bottom is dark
but it’s never been seen
there’s a love I’ve been lacking
it’s required to reach
and repair what is hurting
once it’s fully sunk in

but the top of my head
stores a brain which betrays me
and the innocence, deviance
don’t balance out
that’s the thing about knowing
too much of yourself when
there’s something that’s off
it’s a bit overwhelming

I know one day I’ll die soon
this all will be over
and I won’t get to say
what I wish that I had

what is somber enough
is I wish I would never
wake up every day
in my own aging skin

solc-siuh:

Someone please talk to me I can’t do this rn

It’s easy to want
Or be sorry
Or say it

I feel I must cry
And I let it come out
But it’s vain and it’s
Hollow
And I can’t understand
what those uneasy fragments
Could imply in my mind


Although some art forms touch me
There is no good example
What i actually feel like
When it really goes on

And there’s no way to tell you
Or not even a reason
There is no use in bothering
Talking it out

It’s just something
Upsets me
And I want to be held
By some kind almost stranger
Whose arms i don’t know

Just because it is different
To feel somebody love you
Who has no way of knowing
Who can’t understand why
But
That’s just what I ache for
It’s the strangest sensation
Just to feel something warm


I’ve been seeking out comfort
In beautiful image
For i find them consoling
Seen as how I’m a beast
And within empty solace
I am able to quiet
Just a bit of the feeling
That I’ve no use for life

Maybe I just need love
More than I could imagine
But Im too scared to ask
Because If there’s no answer

One of my only desires
For the longest time
Was to emulate maybe
Just one of those songs
To be stuck in the head
Of a stranger
For an entire day
After only one encounter
To simply be appealing, alluring
Like someone from a movie
Or something

Someone unreal sort of
Out of reach
But I realized then why
That is - not because I am
Remotely remarkable
In fact, quite the contrary
Rather forgettable -

We are all administered
From birth
The idea that each living person is
A special and unique creature
And that every idea we have
Should be nourished and
Every human being is precious
And life should be cherished
That we owe some sort of virtue
Maybe thanks or praise
To a higher unforeseen power
For this splendor
That all people possess but

This is the mentality from which
Is spawned the earths greatest
Artists and revolutionaries
Just the same as its
Murderers and tyrants
So how does this principle
Apply equally to all people?

It seems that life
Is a disgusting competition
Over who can keep their eyes
Closed or open to injustice
And I don’t know if either side
Has any bit of advantage