Searching, Seeking, Always.

Black clouds drift overhead.
A breeze filters in the open window and lazily licks my face as I stare deep into the dark sky.
This is my hiding place, a place where I belong.

I’m sinking to the depths of the ocean, waiting for you.
I’m sitting in the corner of my room, wanting you.

While most of you sleep, I think about how the world is so bleak. I’m surrounded by incomplete teenagers; driven by the danger. There’s too many of us males manoeuvring like scavengers trying to assassinate females character. We’re adrift in a river of time, and we can find no truth in this world of guise. Yet we always find a way to turn and run to our mistakes. And it seems to keep coming back together just to fall apart again. Anchored by dread, there is no further left to sink.

Without wings I see the world from a birds view. Feel the wind blow. Watch the morning sky glow. Flicking ash in a coke can, thinking about my next move, needing a sign of proof. This is I, being strong when I have nothing else to do. I’m skimming the surface of suffering, slowly suffocating, seeking refuge and salvation, but there’s no safe haven. Not from attraction that isn’t reciprocated.

Smoky thoughts circulate and elevate my mind state. I cross lines in society; boundaries are what I break down. Analyse their status, they’re conflicting opinions; it’s a moral shake down. Our minds fall dark and addicted, caving in from the weight of their wickedness.

I’ll still be writing shit when I’m ragged and aged with varacous veins. Let the pain fade away, because there’s no end to the masquerade of change. You can bend the bars of your cage, but you won’t escape. We’re trapped in the part we were cast to play. It’s always the same plot, the same genre, the same drama, the same blood stained love we all chase after. And when you feel that phenomenal rage brewing behind your ribcage, it’s better to just tell yourself that tomorrow will be another day.

And I only wished to leave this all behind, to live a better life. In the dust that finely coated the windowsill I left an inscription, that read, “I just don’t want to die hung up on life”.

I’m lost in this impossible maze. Tear apart myself again, again, again.
We are the consequence of a loveless world.