(no subject)

FUCK

FUCK

FUCK

bad days at the office

often
start
before
we
get there

(no subject)

I would rather be insulted than praised

praise
is
too
often
false

Life could be a dream

dont tell me
there is a
heaven up above

without you
to love

only the devil's blues
sway my sorry bones

life could be a dream
sweetheart

what is love?

what is not love?

what is lesser love or greater love?

is writing love?

are my words
any less loving
choked from my lips
than
wrung from my fingers

I aspire
to be
a man

not just
another corpse
on the
wrong side
of the looking glass

if you dont feel the sun
does it mean
it isnt there?

no
but
it does make it of little use to you

perhaps
I have failed
it has happened before

perhaps I am unfair

why did I stop
writing in this journal?

why did I write in this journal?
I think is a better question

Initially
my thought
was
write here
what I could not
say in life

what can I not say in life?

my heart is heavy
and I
do not know
how it got there

I know why
but not how
and that

that
scares
me