You lied with grace.
I bowed with love.

You took my fire,
left me ash.

I saw your face,
and lost my faith.

You left.
Still,
you called me
light.

I wish we could live in a world where everything wasn’t so difficult. Maybe then our love wouldn’t be confined to the small space next to the closet. Your lips could take their time and work with precision instead of sloppily trying to memorize the way mine move. Maybe then it wouldn’t be so hard to say my thoughts out loud. I can see the wall spinning and the room crashing. I can see the way your eyes
light up, but also how they dim. Her hands won’t tever feel the way mine do, and I know that you’d never give this a second thought but **** why wouldn’t you? There’s more to life than empty bottles and safe love. You speak of passion and soft gestures but you act as if that’s never been an option. You love as if the bottom won’t fall out, as if i didn’t spend that night cleaning glass off of the floor. You won’t feel anything that you did in those 55 seconds unless you let your complex go.

i lost a friend today.
not to death.
almost to death.
i called the police as they attempted.
they have stopped talking to me.
they are angry

i lost a friend today
i wish i had done better.
they almost left.
without a word.
i wish they hadnt told me.

i lost a friend today.

From fascism to fascism,
Through a softer, sly disguise,
Under Satan’s dark baptism,
Tiny worlds meet their demise.

Genocide and degradation,
Artificial to the core,
Spirit’s death and mind’s stagnation—
Drowning deep in filth and gore.

Fear and blind submission lead us,
All foundations cast aside.
From fake plagues to beasts they breed us,
Till the herds are stupefied.

Fools don’t set the night in motion—
They need sheep, not hell unleashed.
Empty heads find full devotion
If their coats are soft and sleek.

But what path is left for moving?
Hell is here, it’s not ahead.
Hellspawn rule us, all-consuming,
Feasting on the souls they bled.

Politics is just a circus,
Where the clowns obey commands.
Truth is drowned in lies on purpose—
Crowds don't bite the guiding hands.

So, they earn their fate in measure,
For the madness owns their breath.
Not for years, but times unmeasured
They have worshipped lies to death.