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questioning

What is the mystery called joy?  A question I've often pondered,  During the long hours of the night.  In my melancholy, too oft  Joy seems to be beyond my reach,  A mirage that fades into dust  Just as I think I can grasp it.  So life becomes a denial  O...

Spare parts

Who has ever touched the well of ink with no fear that his thirst will stay insatiable?

Some certain ransom in this agony, To write, to tell, recount, recite… That majesty of lying and signing that purified fraud a story is, How shameless could be asking a poem ask you things instead of me, And who is me? Some certain freedom in this rhapsod...

Why?

Why is Why so significant?

"Why?"The word that pops into my head every day. Why? I don't know. Maybe I'm thinking about past experiences. My life. Being depressed. Everything. Nothing. I don't know.People tell me I say 'I don't know' too much. But I don't care. Why should I? There...

On the Outside Looking In

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul.

When I look into your eyes of blue I see you. Then why do I feel as though I'm on the outside looking in. When I look into your eyes of blue, I see love. When I look into your eyes of blue, I see kindness. When I look into your eyes of blue, I see joy. Wh...

Waking from my coma, Walking out of my dream, Living in my nightmare, Needing just to scream. My skin becomes a cage. A cage that's far too tight. I want to rip it off. I fight with all my might. The pressure always building, I feel as though I'll pop. I...