its the morning and i wrote this here you go also coffee is good and its a windy day also i was looking for pretty stock photos and i randomly found this jolly man eating a lollipop, but it was like a series, a bloody beautiful one that needed to be in my life and i think you deserve to see it too

conquiring consuming depraving and gruelling

red clouds my sight and covers my ears

everything i try to unlearn talks in silent night

a sweet voice that lulls me to sleep behind the dumpster

where the rats come to chew on my rotten intention

a defence mechanism which knows no bounds

silences inside a throat so down-filled with hate and poison and spit

even hearing that wicked voice taunts me in my dreams

footsteps incite panic and confusion

what did i do this time?

a question asked by the weary, when hurt seems to be

inevitable-intangibly real

never rest for that special time may come when fangs come out

and venom spills into your soul

a hurt deep within

a crack in the core

another painful morning

im not a specimen in a jar