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As i go around the zombies – too messed up from her potions to think. Theyre pulling ideas out in a frozen mind, unaware im walking past, no thought train to conduct. Theyre not aware, of what they should do. As i move towards the housing complex, i see the witch staring at me, her dead gaze, cutting through.

As i remember the good times, seperating the potions that i conjured. I remember, thinking to myself, she looks so beautiful… i think too myself, while walking up the stairs. Is something wrong? Is she really trapped within, which is which – im starting to lose my memory of everything we did, talked about…

reality feels like its slipping. The area, seems fogged, hard to walk forwards, light shines from within the eyes, stars are present. The thinking slower…

The stairs are of metal, chilly, in these shoes… ice hanging from the small apartment-like unit windows. Frost consuming the floors. I walk upwards, during this large staircase… slippery to the feet. As i try to keep gripping and move up, i can hear the laughing from above, growing with strength.

I finally get to the top, shes standing infront. the 80’s wall paper – looks terrible… to the front as i look, she begins to project an image, of 4… they create a vortex, using her chilly breath – i cant tell which is which….

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Lovely Day for a Torture

My dear, do you know no mercy? I’ve climbed too high, to fall this low; I drift in the sky when you’re ‘round; Plummet to the fiery hell… My emotions fluctuate too quick… i served my heart on a golden plate; you ate it amongst the minions; the taste was unwanted…. the beat too obnoxious. the colour too bright, too warm; did you not notice, it was woven, within your traits, it held value for you.; your lips remain blood-soaked, hungering for more. Not needing i…. The heart shall be treasured…. the warm glow you neglect. Shall be another’s; yet i want you… Although you appear devilish at times, I look for the moments when you’re gravitating spirit, punctures my heart, and I fill whole; emptiness when you’ve drifted off. Anxiety before i connect; Happiness when i’ve connected. A cycle… Different identities – The heart can’t  keep up with the ever-changing environmental-costumes, how far will you go to capture and toy with what should be, cared for; the bad news is i can rip you to shreds if i felt differently; push me there?

Deep sadness

My emotions descend to a depth, i’ve never witnessed. They cast within, as poison within a pit of my stomach from my mind, causing me to vomit, the toxicity in the mind multiplies and causes me to lose my current perspective, I begin trying to take grasp of reality, it fluctuates – deep hatred-heavens; destroying my once healthy body.  They stick, my mind can’t go upwards – at some level i feel i deserve pain, which keeps me low. I hyperventilate, but can’t catch up to my normal rhythm. Everything i’ve grown to love, about myself, feels shattered. The mirrors within my thought chain, bounce my thoughts from within, and create a phantom-curtain, that picks up the previous identity, throwing it. My confidence dances away with strength and musical, beauty, playing to an old skipping record – as my thoughts try to find hope, negativity skips with positivitey, briefly – of a destructive classical masterpiece.

Reality fluctuations

Appearing as an illusion, word’s being said, with 0% substance. Action’s being told; never being fulfilled. They appear as substance, but in reality, are a misdirection – Thinking too fast, gaining too little. A billboard of propaganda, dressed in a flowery dress, conforming actions multiply, dressing style’s appear mass-produced – Reality one fades – two different realities, skipping to the next, while being in the other. As I live between the two flow’s of realities happening, i gain different advantages and disadvantage – all while the lady in the dress… say’s keep going. I shout back, too long ago, i trusted somebody i shouldn’t have – now my emotions plummet, and two instances of how we’re functioning become overwhelming. The realities fight one another for dominance, and i’m losing touch… My life became different, the realities became hard to manage – Having everything, but having nothing….

Leaving a Loved One (eventually)

Imaginary distance keeps us apart; feeling so genuine – You’re running thru my mind; never getting anywhere, my hearts being pulled along; the length remains; but you’ve managed to further the separateness – My senses notice you’re ‘round – I hope my heart will forget – You’ve mentally travelled far-and-wide, climbed to the vastness of the peak of my emotional wellness and hindered everything i once projected, the picture was love; i feel defeat.

Chasing a Love

My feeling’s created a vortex – They shall bring her towards; Her’s deflect my circular storm.  The wind shoots towards immensely.

Knocking me down – She comes forward wearing an (unknown) mask, wielding a freshly sharpened knife – The days have passed, the blade remained, the mask knew many roles, the knife has taken many foes – The darkness is overpowering

The weaponry, becomes dull as she progresses her stabs locating my heart – the vortex lessens in size.

She smiles, the beauty of her smile, catches me off guard – my feeling’s ‘sharpen’ – They take ahold – strengthen…. ascend – The vortex grow’s dangerously large;

The powerful air becomes unstable, It fluctuates – tilts rapidly, back-and-forth – bringing forth the other, consuming her; the blade – bounced off my heavily guarded heart, the blade bent…. I wake up, and realize i’ve been walking once more in my sleep – Feeling’s still needing release, to pick her up, and wrap my arms around.

BEER & LOVE

Drowning in a pool of yellow liquid, the sides are rising – Creating a barrier. The bubbles come from the mouth, puking out additional substance, furthering the im-prisonment. The barriers become aggressive, the hand takes me and locks me down- the key stolen, by the one that’s suppose to be there for me….

The waves are creating a superior time, riding these beautiful inconsistencies; As my emotions plummet, forever searching for “additional”. All-the-while, i think of the queen, the one that roams the nest with carefreeness, strength, beauty – Feeling as-if, a tiny bee. needing her, I drink another beer. The moments go-by, quicker, my heart releases a noise – She doesn’t appreciate. I climbed massive barriers, yet she does not care, it doesn’t occur to her that i’m trying the best i can – A tiny bee in pursuit of love.

Fine Day for Love (and betrayal?)

The other’s accelerating and I can’t keep up – String attached to my heart – Running with quickness, the string getting tangled with societies belief’s – Family, friends, they’re not listening, they don’t believe; do i? i contemplate reality. The further the string becomes from the “other” the more my heart aches, it eventually becomes torn  – It beats, towards her’s; does her’s beat to mine? does it sing a song of aggression; joint-affection? Is she a ghost that happens to haunt? person of excellence?  Over the mountain and onto the bridge she distances herself…. Sharks begin to comment – my legs feel numb – The heart’s attached to a vast amount of strings based off her character, and the string movements are creating a dance of “what-could-happen” – my legs lose rhythm over the season – the heart never skips a united beat – It’s wrapped within a grassy foil, that happens to heat, but the grass surrounding becoming dead… Trust is expired, and she’ll never be located – Death awaits in time for FALL; Or love real love?

Death by Overdose

The rock forms around the water – individuality is dead, society became duplicated – the printer, prints; never slowing to decide on its ethical stand – conformists. Living within a world we look to television for our fashion – the personality doesn’t blossom as it previously had, the pedals drift in the wind – negativity remains. strong hate stays, They’re marching in a  single-fashion, their one size boots hitting the ground with vigorousness – the blue jacket stands out in the darkness. The soul, searching for different, never quite finding the spark; they see dead frowns mass produced; eyes appear sad, overworked, overused, their face is old, and hungering for another fix. Time continues and shall bring change, the junkies die, the dealer’s find a bullet – their organs, fail and their bodies shake – A pipe falls to the ground, hitting the ground with a sweet release, the shadow comes out, and sinks beneath -Danced with the devil, He overcame their mind with ease, and destroyed the GAME. One by one, they met their fate.

Drug Dealers Have an Expiry Date Too

Crack floods the streets spreading out like a web, white, expensive and addictive. Affecting those in it’s area, prayed upon by the spider – vicious and heartless. Music vibrates and enjoyed by the arachnid… he becomes more vicious, more demanding, he lifts the table in a tantrum, scaring those around, showing the concrete jungle that he’s the man to fear – The vibrations heighten the ego it progresses dangerously high, dangerously fast. furthering the destruction within their community. Building crumble as they’re built. Lives end as they begin to walk. And yet we hope things will become better, but they were better, time passed and we overlooked it.

The crack pipe becomes hot; the crack depleted – The piles of money grow to “beautiful heights”, car’s get more expensive and have more functions that aren’t used, never admired – They’re forgetting what they’ve learned, before their innocence was quickly taken away… subjected to a street life, that’s taken away their uniqueness, free-will. Another sold soul. Another soul bought by the devil himself. In an art form that was suppose to uplift the community within rather than become mainstream and lead them astray.

They’re in a robotic-state, operating on a mere level, operating by incentive, chasing a bill that will never arrive, never hold for a long duration, everything in a “trap life” has an expiry date. Including lives.

their soul’s become devil-bound, their eyes become deepened, bloodshot, their grip tightens, as they’re wielding their firearm – Rapper’s fighting to be heard, drug dealer’s fighting to be seem. 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”, because that’s all he’s grown to know. He values money because it will fulfill’s him, while his soul saddens, walks amongst the Earth with a hallow frown. Looking, searching for more… but never getting the more it wants, it needs.