Noting Worth Nothing

Since the time I was born, I couldn’t wait to die,
and just that thought made me so happy I could cry.
I’ll never be quite the same as I was back then
since everything I once did is repeating all over again.

The truth is always buried beneath clever lying and wit,
and I tend to always remember that the moment  I forget it.
I dream during the day because this reality is fake,
and when I close my eyes, I dream of being awake.

I’ll never know everything, and that truly shows
that everything is exactly what ignorance knows.
I calmly look behind my eyes, and then I see:
nonsense always made the most sense to me…

 

Lord, Have Mercy

Dear diary,
my anxiety
keeps me from being one of the heard.

Infinity –
its great mystery
is like nothing I have encountered.

Oh Trinity,
if we could be free,
then we could soar like two true lovebirds.

Reality…
It is not for me.
Lost in my own dreams would be preferred.

It’s plain to see
that my self pity
is an art I have truly mastered.

My death will be
a calamity.
Is it Heaven or Hell I’ve entered?