Galactic Traffic jam

The notes make time slow.
It mutes the suffer, it’s pain and the bellows of woe.
The music, it lingers, like an echo.
I feel it’s emotion stir and pull.
It pours into my heart,
putting pain on hold.
It’ dances all day,
in the back of my mind the tune plays,
like a loop roaming around my head.
Like saturn’s rings- polished razor thin, star crossed rocks swing in a timely sync as if it were a hymn begging people to sing.
filling its wings to the brim,
groomed to a beautiful smooth sphere.
Saturday rings like traffic.


Using Days

My feet are stuck

I’m in cement.

My mind is gone,

I don’t know where it went.

My banks withdrawn,

I’m dried up and spent.

I’m half alive, almost dead.

My heart is carved,

I’m left with a head

Full of regret,

Heavy as lead.

I was too far gone,

Don’t remember what I’ve said,

Maybe it’s for the best.

Regret checks one less.

I’m okay with this-

a train wreck mess

The Only Spirit I Have Is A Drink

The only spirit I have is a drink. Ha ha I laugh at happily ever after. Ever since I tipped off the brink into disaster. Change couldn’t have come faster. I could kill the grand master plotting this god awful chapter. Up until the hanger left me forever on a cliff. Now I don’t know which way is which. I’m lost. 

As you thought

U were lost
And felt afraid with waves of shame
Pings of pain
Future tripping never went your way.
The good old’s, that’s what they’ll say. You didn’t live by the same set of rules, your world is untraditional, unlike the uptight lives passing by with typical things to fill their time and waste their days. Discarded brains behind a painted face. Hard wired by manic liars. Waiting in line only to find their heaven in flames. A nonexistent place. Now the meaning of your so called life has gone to wast. Dead, with nothing left behind but a name and date.

Loss of a Loved One

All the screws are loose in my head. And all the strings in my house are out of tune. Just like you. I’m not like the sun and I’m not like the moon. Personality traits, attitude and mood. Put on the breaks, re-boot and resume. Seasons grow the roots from snow and bloom. It’s sad in the beginning of every June. Spending birthdays without you Remembering death days too. Worried sick that my memory will fail me quick when I want to backshift into the past. Respect for the dead, resent for what God’s delusions do to your head. You’re not here. It took two years to disappear. Pictures, now like mirrors. Reflecting upon the past. Recollecting where I was and where I’m at. How did I get here over a few years..and I’m still struck by the same old fears. With no luck, I’m bleeding cold tears. Motives stumped and got stuck in the mud of what is and what was. What has yet to come. I’ll stay back in the past just to make your life last. Forget me not, picking forget me knots, planting bulbs in flower pots. Things we did together and future-tripping over homemade dinner. A recovered sinner taking care of her mother, who can’t help but to suffer until her light gets snuffed and her body’s had enough but there’s never enough time to live how we want. Accomplish dead dreams in fantasies. Building up resentments instead of enduring the present. Hell bent and heaven sent. The sky is painted with wild hues that remind me of you- your favorite pair of colors up in the air- to beautiful to look away, I had no choice but to stare. But she wouldn’t dare. Well aware that life is unfair. And that mine is ten fold in despair. God taken care of ruining my nine lives.  

Stream of consciousness

February 21, 2016 at 12:45 am 
I don’t put on the breaks when I make mistakes. I don’t over-complicate the error of my ways, fuck self-hate, I’m inclined to embrace. Shake awake any shame, take it with a grain of salt and a shot of tequila. Don’t wait for whatever stings, let pain set in and stain. Just erase it from your mental state, clear your lane, turn the page. Forget the concept of age. it’s just another day. Enjoy the rain, don’t mind when sun rays are M.I.A. All the worlds a stage? If that makes you afraid, don’t hesitate to relocate, never mind settling down, live like a nomad. It’s okay to play the clown. We all have our ups and we all face our downs. Fuck faith. Screw pride. People chased down to turn fake. Assigned lives, comprised of conniving sides, where relatives delegate expectations for you to make. Success and bills to save. Excess stress to slowing your brain, prescribed pills to tame your pain.