the macabre follows us home, to our sleep.
frustration chews at your soul.
tears sinking into aging skin.
that is life, isn’t it? you know that you’ll die in the end, but you continue to live. why?
knowing what you could have had but what you never chased after is the most painful thing in the world.
years spent hurting turned into years spent hating.
warm air and cold raindrops – a grey paradox i love.
i am lost, walking in a dream that doesn’t exist.
beneath muted blue and grey, you look for your shadow held captive by your fears.
there was nothing seenon the grey perimeterof lives lived and lost