UntouchableI can taste your flesh,I let it linger on my tongue.Not a true representation of your being, But a tangible one.Your aroma has me lucid,Pulls at every fibre of my lungs.It will never capture your true essence, Only a glean of what's to come.
What Do I Want?What is it, exactly, that I want from life?The weirdest part about that question, different from all the other times it has been asked, is the fact that I may be on the precipice of being able to answer.It’s almost trivial how my life has played out so far. So many self-induced dilemmas I have faced that made me question a question that I’ve never yet answered.Life is vastly complex in its simplicity.Existing is never enough. We always want more; more meaning to wake up in the mornings. More reasons to want to.Because somehow, along the path of life paved for centuries, just getting up became not good enough.We’ve been blessed with life; with the ability to do whatever we can imagine. Such a gift, yet we’ve spent that time questioning it, and our right to.We are undoubtedly a doubtful species.What is our alternative though?To accept the fact that as vivid and fulfilling life may be. It is, alas, as bleak as we had suspected?That we live materialistic l
Wounded MindsCreativity readily comes from a dark place. The best inspiration is a wounded mind.It takes a special kind of soul to make joyful artwork. I believe that to be the epitome of high roads.Alas, I am a coward, and I will wallow in my dark.I’ll drain this pit of inspiration until there’s nothing left of it and I’m fresh out of creative juice.Because my head space isn’t capable of joy yet; I am well and truly stuck with a wounded mind.
... RamblingsI'll rub it all off me,Let it run down the drain,A conceded horror,With no one to blame.You can run, you can scream,Thrash and cry,But it will surpass you,Swallow you dry.A little too late,To place bets on success,The past has passed,And the test is the rest