scribbles at late night

i can’t believe i am still here.
as i wished for death, out loud.

can i even claim “AGED + MORE WISE(R)” because i used to
day dream suicides on my way to sleep and now don’t,
now ache to live, to feel with as many senses this existence ruptures on me?

there is nothing wrong with me like i’ve been claiming —

just a bloated ego, full, like a fat mosquito, gorged
on kingly ideologies decreed by my own blood.

i want to see the world in others,
not the narrow alleyways

i just want to be


i want to explore other galaxies that are not my own.

i am a testament

fill me with your truths so that i might know, something.


This entry was published on April 24, 2013 at 12:53 pm. It’s filed under creative conversation, emotions and stuff, head trips, life, life lessons, mind, personal stories, photography, poetry, questions, rambles and writing, weird, words, writing and tagged , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Follow any comments here with the RSS feed for this post.

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