Today I wasted my time

I woke up seated

Sat in front of the mirror and repeated no lines

Today I wasted my time

Drank from an empty cup and smoked my wine

I wasted my time

sang in harmony and forgot to rhyme

mixed sweet potions to heal from mucus and slime

I wasted my time

nurturing wounds that are barely mine

I didn’t want to admit this

but I done did it

wasted what wasn’t mine

 

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Questions

Are we going to die? Are we all going to die? But I’m scared. What if non of this ends when we do. What if it all starts over again. What will we do. Can we actually do something. Where will we go? Who will be stronger? Will it be our will or our circumstances. I don’t want to die. At least, I want my will to prevail. I want to be able to make sure that we’re all okay. That no one will fear us. That nothing will scare us. That we won’t be oppressed and won’t allow intimidation. What will become of us….The little boy’s plea died with him. One second before he could get another word out. The world ended with him. As for the afterworld…what do you think. Did he make it? Have you seen him around? 

Why do your eyes light up

Why do your eyes light up

When she enters the oh so famous room

Where everybody who is expecting anybody 

Always seems to find himself

Why do your eyes light up when hers fall into them

Why do you seek her eyes when you’re glad

Why do yours smile into hers, even when you’re feeling sad.

Why do your eyes light up and breath dreams into hers 

While your holding somebody else’s hands. 

There’s a strain from loneliness on my back

Right between my shoulders

And it feels bittersweet

Like when you feel at home

But the house seems too empty

Like having wings to fly

But being scared of height 

Alone

With my own thoughts 

Makes me feel content 

I could get up and slay demons

Figure a way out

And plan roadtrips for myself

But lately

I have been feeling a strain on my back

Just between my shoulderblades

I can never tell how to stop the ache

Could it be 

Maybe

That a firm hand

On that place

Would make it go away

Could it be so

That maybe

A hand to hold on a long drive

Would make the strain stray? 

And leave me courageous on my own again