Floating
Bubbles rising to the surface
Echoing in the silent landscape
The body moving perpetually
Poison spreading through the body
The body tearing apart from its center
Quietly
Lifelessly
Motionlessly

In perpetual solitude I linger in the shadows.
Fragmented in which pieces to me are unbeknownst... unrecognisable.

Am I who I was or am I nothing but a memory of what I once were? Something other than me. A corrupted part of my insanity.

Maybe I am nothing more than lifeless flesh, rotting in perpetual solitude.

The world brought me to my knees so often that
I chained myself to a wall;
Though I am secured to its masonry,
From time to time I start to fall.

Wrists slide from their shackles, to the abyss below,
Where the quiet seems to stretch out like a warm embrace.
Where the trembling lips and shaking forms cease,
Where no longer exist the tears that roll down my face.

But perhaps I have too much resilience,
To break away from my *******;
Though I often squirm against the metal,
Feeling as if I've been taken hostage.

Each morning I wake in peaceful silence,
Yawning, stretching, starting the day.
But a mournful agony screeches inside,
Manipulating my thoughts and the words I say.

The world brought me to my knees so often that
I chained myself to a wall;
Though I am secured to its masonry,
From time to time I start to fall.

Cradle upon the spooned arms,
And the sunken fetus lay at ease.

As the night sky yield a breeze,
And the illumination of dawn woken by the alarms.

Serendipitous actions peak with charms,
And all things calm to a breathless sieze.

The presence brought myself to a knelted knees,
For the shimmering fire showed no harm.

We can only glisten by the laughter it gimmer that all things are going to be okay!

Perpetual war
With my soul
I think its almost done
For now
I'll dial you when it comes back
Just make sure you're ready
For anything

All my days start out the same:
every single minute
is reflective of the
ever simple second
is there a silver to the lining of my linens?
The underground; they just don't know

There's wisdom in my patience
a poetic slander
to the ever passing hour
I'm afraid of singing in the shower
and touching bodies with the flowers
because I am frightened of bees