untitled

It was the day the black pen ran red
And pencil was replaced by pen.
The day that the night was brighter than the sun
I'm awake
And my mind
It's tired of wandering....

hurricane

What's it like? my thoughts, hurricane offspring whirl around me circling and cycling grounds shift around me, words go mute but mouths keep moving hands shake, hearts race I am left panting, recieving liquid courage that I don't need to fight it but it pours into me and I'm dizzy, I'm angry, I'm confused I want it to end, make it end, please stop the hurricane I can't keep going like this, make it stop. Make. It. Stop. And it does but it never feels like it will. So, it's like a hurricane twisting and turning and it feels like it will never end. It's a hurricane but within my own mind.

childish drawings

there's a faint trace on my skin of your childish drawings and they won't come off no matter how hard I try to scrub myself clean.