what a time to be alive

you see me licking my wounds
& I see you creating new ones

what incredible timing

drunk on company, on beer
and the "holiday cheer"

but that's not what it sounds like

we all got pretty ******,
it's a surprise I didn't *****

the room kept spinning

it was the holidays, though
and there was certainly cheer

my ears were ringing

oddly enough though, I
accepted it as a blessing

I can't fight against time

time is beautiful in the way it indiscriminately destroys

I'm not one to resist beauty

it's so chaotic and it makes
absolutely no sense at all

but it takes you places

I couldn't find the sea and
beauty led me there

even though life is loss

you get used to it and those
terrible beautiful things

can fill the cracks in your being
if you let them seep through you

you feel disgusted with yourself
but in the eyes of the concrete
you are viewed as wholly reborn
there is an uncomfortable beauty
in every shape of the pain you feel
and it's all you've known, you see
barbed-wire for that safety net
a heavy head filled near the brim

but a soul exists within that form
separate of the tormented skin
the scratching & clawing within
there is an eternal essence of all
being, there is flawed divinity in you
one must stop and really breathe it

you've survived your mind, brother
of mine, and that alone is no small
feat, there's fear all around and it's
always drawing near, but you can
continue onward, you can still live.
at the end of it all, when you return
to the universe, you can at least
have with you in those final moments,
complete unity and understanding.
you can view the grand precipice of
your being with full awareness,
and that is yours. you take that with
you as you cross over, into eternity

a low, low lonely boy
sitting at a desk, vices
laid out before him.
there are whispers from
the other room, he can
hear them but cannot
make out what they are
saying. the tones are
disapproving, however,
so one could assume the
worst. one is usually inclined
to only assume the worst.

pants around the ankles, heart
beat slowing from a near sprint
and the illusion of desire now
shattering and raining on the
***** carpet around. the choked
sunlight, what's left of it, collapses
among the shards of fantasy.

a tray of chocolate covered almonds
which was filled with eager hands,
intent on gorging, sits half eaten before
the dim light of the screen
those same eager hands choked the
innocence of the day, slowly,
and those same guilty hands now
hold the face of that lonely boy.