The way that things
get broken,
Sometimes I don’t know how
to fix it.
A million slivers of hope
shatter to the floor.
The person in the mirror,
Dreams of yesterday look upon
a field of tomorrows;
Never to be planted,
Only to create a void
in the aftermath.


Vast Trap

With that kind of time
What could the mind design?
Whether poem written in a rhyme,
Or snowflake fallen from the sky
All is special, all divine
How can one be more sacred than another?


The pang in my chest
The ringing in my ears
The message loud and clear:
You don’t understand me.
The daggers in your eyes
The distance in your voice
I haven’t got a choice:
Find another place to be.

A place in my mind
Too discrete for anyone to find,
The secrets that I keep
Of myself buried deep.

Your resistance is my defeat;
I stand alone against your army.
Round in circles, I retreat
Hell below is at my feet
A trace of heaven I could see,
Now just your face staring
Blankly at me.