My perfect soul.

She the perfect match;

Im not heightening a white flag.

To blow in the breeze of our past, waring love.

invisible bombs dropping in our heads as thoughts,

Tankful actions to betray me…

May the land minds of our words,

Self destruct, may the tank lose course,

May the spiralling bombs around us, to cease.

The end of our war, belongs to future loves.

May they be more understanding, less prideful.

May the war cease, the flag to hover whilst blue jay’s pass nearby;

May the sun set whilst you’re smiling in-front of him.

May your smile stay bold and flawless,

You deserve to be content, i do know.

I love you…

To lose your massive pride,

Would mean to me, that I’m worth it too, am i?

@vincecarre My writing instagram


Fentanyl. Crack. Bodies Stack

Crack floods the streets, spreading out like a web, affecting those in it, prayed upon by the spider, black, and cold – pockets become large. music vibrates and enjoyed by the arachnid… Heightening the ego, furthering the destruction, the crack pipe becomes hot; the crack depleted – The piles of money grow, their families prosper, their soul’s become devilish, their eyes grow deep, their eyes bloodshot, their grip tightens – Rapper’s fighting to be seen, drug dealer’s fighting to be seen, the crack man, want’s death, his next fix – but never repairs anything – he want’s to fade away… death’s becoming vast, across Canada, crack strengthens, mixed with fentanyl… the bodies begin to stack, they begin to heighten; bodies shake, their heart seizes, their heart stops pumping as it did… but still the drug dealer heighten his “flow”.

The Crow and the Wine cellar

in the cellar, are plenty of wine bottles, the flavours are plentiful. As i pick my flavour, i see a rat come out of the door, he shifts and quickly runs, as a bottle hits the floor, i wonder if the clock is moving at a pace i’m unsure of… i go back to selecting my drink for the night… i pick a lighter bottle…. I walk up the stairs… i close the door behind me it creeks – i conclude i should put WD-40 onto the hinges… i keep my pace up the stairs however. As i’m walking upwards i realize that it’s a more spiral set of stairs, i keep ascending the rocky stair case. And i finally come into the light of the hallway… and notice it’s a pigeon engraved bottle… I go towards my living room, thru the hallway… I sit upon the table so i can see out thru the window… I begin to drink my bottle of alcoholic enjoyment. I ponder what happened during the cellar trip. However i conclude that it’s best if i keep a hopeful and happy mindset as i drink my beverage.. i take a few sips… I start to sink into depression, the madness of the night shoots thru my mind awfully and plentiful… i feel my liver stunned in pain and unable to process the beverage once more… as i’m thinking of death – i see crow outside the window…. I start coughing blood at a quick rate.. I fall off the hard table, i begin screaming – however i’m the only one home and the only one around… i begin to shift towards my landline, but i don’t have the strength, and i keenly remember i didn’t pay my phone bill, due to the fact that i needed to add my wine to my cellar… My body begins to shake, my skin feels dead….

Two days later the paramedics: find my body, my liver stopped functioning normally and died

Cycling Towards a Goal

battling the shadows within my mind, a constant fight. they’re using more sophisticated weaponry, advanced targeting systems, spiralling around my mind, detaching reality from within, betraying my beliefs, my agenda…. it feels as-if everything i’ve done in the name of a better life is for nothing, the hard times will be forever… I look to my friends and family for support, but i’m alone. it’s time to call it quits… but something in me keeps wanting what i cannot have. wanting the best. So that side of me will not give up, it moves forward and drags the other side, along… Forever in a constant cycle, of what feels good, mixed with what would be make the best results… so i strengthen up and build myself a future that i’ll be proud of. Forever running a marathon that i may complete…. cycling to my goals in a constant way, playing catchup with what’s not meant for me.


Trapped within a mental cage. the bar’s are clear, the room is wide and lengthy. there’s much to do, yet nothing to do simultaniously… i shout for prison guards, inmates, but there isn’t anyone in the far distance. feels as if ill never leave this old prision, never see someone in the same situation… I shout out for the warden, someone in charge, but a speaker from on-top, says in a robotic tone, a fish in a pond that gets taken out of the water, caught. Is no longer free… but he can escape the boat if he has enough strength, enough will… My will is depleting, and i’m caught, but i’m in a bucket near the edges of the boat. With one lucky jump, i could claim my freedom back, and conquer the mountain, but i often wonder if the mountains an illusion and i’m really in sinking sand, I’m told never move ask for help, but there’s nobody in sight, nobody that cares…. Perhaps this is my fate to be within this cage forever, like a bird flapping it’s wings in it’s enforcement waiting for somebody to allow them to fly once more… the seasons will change slowly, the days will lessen, but it’s a slow death, as the dreams of flying within the birds mind, lessen, everything he’s known, loved are a fading memory…. as he ticks at the cage, they put more restraints, the quick sand within the mind fights back and brings the birds pride, joy, into the thick liquid, until it’s dead….


As i walk to the bean, i notice two ducks. within the river, beside the path that id travel, two and back to cafe beans. It was a cold december day, the breeze running through my hair, chilling my body temprature once again… those ducks left my sight, so i continued onwards to the bean. I met up with the others within, as usual i theyd ask me for cigarettes, chat as the smoke decreased in length… and it was gone within 5 minutes… that chat was over…. we all ventured into the bean, i took my seat at the back, them around the table… i felt used once again, in hopes of making a new friendship, as the months grew, our conversations became longer… our communicating seemed rather enjoyable, i felt a bond. One day within the spring, i was walking to the bean once again… and i felt a happiness that i havent felt in a while, it grew as the months grew rapidly. I thought to myself, ive found friends. Theyre great. I saw them once again that day, at a coffee shop i no longer go to… and i said hey todd, the usual happened, the smoke exchange… but this time it felt like we were buddies, they accompinied me home, and we began to converse, back-and-forth, the conversation getting rather deep… i enjoyed the times… the moments we shared grew and grew… to the point where theyd come daily, for 3 days in a row… i was often drunk. But one day they took out a pill, a vallium, i was told it was something lesser, wasnt addictive, decreased anxiety which i needed. So i enjoyed a few of them that day… the next day i saw them again… more pills, more booze. The times were enjoyable i felt an honest friendship between them, did they? The next day… they were hassling me, i didnt think anything different, little hassling, good talks. On our way to grab something, he showed me much, pawn shops, break and entering. we went to a drugdealer with the newly hassled money, another lie…. cocaine… i snorted it. He left in a rush… but left behind some pink pills, the eurphoria, excellated in height, i nodded my head to the music, without a care in the world…


I questioned the shiness and durability of the rock, and my perspective and understanding spiralled into chaos. All of the destructive behaviour that i overlooked all made sense… prositution, break and entry, a fading life and future… as i smoke crack, rock after rock, my future felt fading as the withdrawls became much more, and i felt a panick that ive havent felt in long, all because i wanted a new buddy….


i drink the beer. it remains awful, highly addictive… but the toxicity, and nastiness…. remains a guilty pressure… i grow closer to the deadly substance… as it rips apart the seams of my life… every thread i lose is shortening my time with my loved ones, my girl, the cat… they’re all counting on me to succeed to better their worlds, heighten their horizons, but they don’t know that every sip is the pressure that i can’t say no too… they’re expectations are ripping apart the beautiful fabric of my mind. every sip is interfering with how my brain functions, its killing cells and functions… yet i sip once more… happy with feeling numb, unalert….. relaxed.

The girl

I’m tired of our back-and-forth signs, love. our mysterious, yet concrete, deceptive love. id love to understand the mysteries you hold within, yours flaws, your mistakes, your vulnerable times. they’re important to me, I’ve learned to care about the whole picture of character. the soft details like you’ve showed me, are some of your most magical, because they’re relatable, and add depth to how i see you. you’re building resistance, while I’m trying to conquer them. but you’re becoming more and more mysterious, at the same time who you are is unfolding, i knew i was attached mentally, for sometime, i see your face in other women, i play songs that remind me of your presence over-and-over. they’re upbeat, heart-warming and musical