Lifeless
out of body
a numbness that won't leave
curled in a fetal position
searching
I am powerless
manipulated by your touch
leaving me scarred
An empty hourglass lies broken.
No sleep descends on me at all.
Thoughts are cruel, endless river.
My eyes are wide, like open moons.
Each clock tick is a distant noise.
The world outside is still sleeping.
I yearn to fall from consciousness.
How can I be healed when my rivers are still tender
My heart is stuck in the same sentence
Unheard points screamed at the child inside me
What am I
When the trees stick out and come out of hiding
My thoughts are disconnected from the lifeless rivers bound down on me
This penny for thoughts is meaningless
No worth inside its curves
It meant so much when I paid attention to the quietness
But the wind snatches the good thoughts from hallways of complete darkness
Do I sound crazy
Dreaming of high skies and cloud nines
I cannot see up here
It's too bright and the lines are hard to look at as wrong
How can I be healed when the tree has nothing more to wave in the wind for a look
It is invisible aging and broken edges
How am I ever healed
Life Without You
Life without you
in cold desert sand,
I walk without shadow,
the sun too tired to care.
Alone in the place I used to know,
walls whisper your name in cracks and corners,
but you never answer.
Silence moved in where your voice used to be.
The rooms are getting smaller,
the windows won’t open,
time has folded in on itself
only the ache expands.
I no longer feel the seasons.
Spring forgot me.
Summer lost its colour.
And autumn,
autumn just watches me unravel.
Winter stays forever.
It crept into my chest and made a home,
built a bed beside my ribs,
and now it breathes with me
slow, cold, constant.
Even dreams have turned grey.
Even my tears freeze midfall.
I speak to the air
as if you might reply.
You don’t.
Because only on my mind you exist
As bedtime approaches, an inexplicable sadness settles in, morphing into frustration with the morning light. The weight of getting out of bed feels crushing, but the summer heat eventually forces me up. I put on a brave face for the kids and start my day, though the silence feels suffocating.
The thought of depression creeps in, and I hate the familiarity of this struggle. A single tear may fall, but it's enough to make me feel stuck. One moment, I crave comfort; the next, I'm overwhelmed by the urge to scream.
Despite the turmoil, I want to live, but I'm tired of this monotonous existence. I yearn for more, believing I deserve it. The inner voices are relentless, their screams piercing. Meditation becomes my escape, a temporary reprieve from the chaos.
I repeat positive affirmations, though they feel hollow. Hope clings tight, and faith fuels my fight. Yet, in quiet moments, I'm reminded that fate ultimately decides our path. We all end up in the same place, regardless of our journey.
She has not bathed for a week or two
Those pajamas have been on her at least six days
She complains of aches and pains
Moaning she has no friends
Listless, lifeless, and lethargic
Her parents are beyond worried
There is a knock on the door
A friend enters
“Let’s go party!”
Their sloth of a daughter turns into a carnival ride
Leaves twenty minutes later bursting with energy
Wearing a sequin dress, high heels, combed hair and lipstick
You cannot outguess a fifteen-year-old daughter
Lifeless puppet
Broken strings
Collecting dust
And other things
her dancing was lifeless
mechanical stilted moves
she had no expression
eyes of a plastic mannequin
where was her joy?
did she like dancing?
her mother’s dream
never hers.
I'm dead from the inside
And it's starting to show
Cause I'm slowly slipping into my cracks
Slowly fading with my smile
I've been fighting to keep the spark
But the embers are blowing in the wind
Floating away like they wanted to be set free
While all they're doing is setting me free to darkness
I've been this way for a while now
Been trying hard to find that turn
But each turn that comes is a wrong turn
And it only makes me freeze in my steps
The PO£T
I want to write but what’s the point of writting music with no rhythm.
- blues
His dead body was lying on the sand.
Frigid, frigid waves appeared to bite his lips.
His pulse and breath stopped as he left his land.
The motion seemed to shake his fingertips.
His mother's wish was to find a land far from war.
A trip that happens at night on the open sea.
He stumbled like a fish amid the chaos and roar.
As the arms that were holding him set him free.
If you snap my way or meddle with me once,
This is what you do at the risk of your own life.
My image of calm and kindness is rather false.
I've witnessed enough heartbreak and strife.
A photo went across the world as a waste of time.
If it went over well, it did little to quell the crime.
Written: May 27, 2023
Is it dead or broken?
Two batteries, new...
I'm holding a lifeless body
I want... I need this to end
Mom's gift was never for me
This knot will take time to untie
Unless... I untie him myself.
I know I have the strength
But strength is useless when the will is lacking
Why bother when there's the hourglass
Everything is better with this new toy
And this time, I found exactly what I wanted so badly.
LEDs, movement and lullaby.
Please let me alone
My heart and my soul
Pollution is everywhere
The land the sea the food
The mind the body
The heart the soul
The words the behaviour ...
We live with pollution everyday
Boundaryless and invisible
Until to the maximum we fall sick
Until to the limit we leave
There may not be pollution in outer space
Buy there is lifeless
Maybe we have to accept our fate here
And try to adjust our bodies and mind
To live happier and longer
From now and ever since
Cigarette butts pressed into the ashtray.
Yellowed fingers from nicotine.
Prematurely aged face,
Wrinkled.
Squeezed inside.
No passion.
Without life.
Drown in his own misery ...
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