i deny
these sultry
suicidal
ideologies
that permeate
the membrane
between
the nightmares
afflicting
the waking
and sleeping
worlds of woe.
wearing a
miner’s cap
with a candle
dripping wax
down my face
as the canary
panics in the
poisonous air
while i
mindlessly
mine for
veins of more
in these
bottomless depths
of dire dark
depressions.
i fear to
pop the bubble
of nothingness
revealing how
pointless all
the struggle is
choosing my
own sisyphusian
trials over
the permanence
eventually
coming for us all
despite our
best intentions
or noble souls
where ugliness
mars the hands
of beautiful
creations as
surely as life
kills us all.

i long for sleep
to satiate my
desire for the void
and like everything
i long to hold
it stays just
beyond my reach
as i fingerpaint
daydreams across
electronic despair
murmuring my love
to the stars hidden
beyond the crimson
tinted clouds above.