Take me to your dealer

 in the grand elixir of belief, you will all be infected.

although, you might as well have- as you turned your back and sailed away on your precious ship - enveloped me in a linen shroud of forsook, dropped me in my sepulcher of protracted agony, of which my body is dead and my mind is exiled to a land where you remain the sinew of my soul- my lovely, aching appendage of whom I rue my lasting inebriation for

A hallow body mirrors my own tangible being, its presence existing as a stratum of thriving grains of sand; molded into the faceless image of me. The bed in which my eyes lay has expired into a breeding ground of noxious weeds that fortify from one viewers blind accumulation of set morals, and irremediable whispers of thought. My eyes are set ablaze once pierced by the parallel pneuma of myself, composed from an unbridled veil of sand grist. For so long I have lived in a realm that rendered me blind to something that was virtually equidistant from me. But when the time came for the abundant consumption of opaque ignorance that my mortal mind has survived the bleak enviorment of, my revived sight rather did not jump to the beautiful innate essence of myself, but to the clutter of the world moving around it. I, instead of unwrapping a new hue of sight after looking into each grain of life that made up the presence in front of me, I ground each individual grain into dust, and I inhaled a world of smoke which wreathed within me, clearing the smog that the world seemed to imbrue me with. Although, as I abused this habit, the sand ceased to operate in ways that I was used to, and the smoke I inhaled left behind a band of fog in my mind. It penetrates my senses at times, leaving me with the dull reminder that my heart is alone amidst these ribs, with no one to caress the skin that protects the last grains of sand that make up the soul within me. I exist between the world where we become the things we think we obtain, and the realm where the only thing that lives is the grist of our souls. I live among minds who underestimate the withdrawl of a world they have been so miserably fooled to act amidst. I suppose, living between worlds has drawn myself into a room where my mere psyche has composed a realm of pause. Physically acting as a drone with no better instincts than to proceed to the normal remedie of self sedation, mentally I sit in that room with my spine aligned to the wall, my knees to my chest, and I silently ponder the hazed sailing which is my life; all the while I inhale my own self eradication.

Entry log, 7/7/17: Going to my therapist today, hopefully something inspires me, wakes me. I hope and I hope and I hope and I hope AND I HOPE, because if I stop then there is pain and despondency.

The crestfallen song may come to a halt, but the broken melody within the heart abuse its encore, without a fault

As my heart slows, And my mortal being decay’s My greying eye’s wonder to the sky beyond- How is the weather today?

Love me, because I love you

I laid there in my same old bed, the smell of stale scented lotion and pot lingering in the crisp air. It was a winter midnight in January and my fan was on low, spiraling the same whitenoise I was used to hearing every night as my thoughts would usually fade into a heavy comatose as its monotonous hum vibrated through the air. But that night my eyes caught attention of a light that peered through a crack in my curtain. I finally decided to jump up with my shield of blankets wrapped around me and I headed to the porch. I was astonished. The moon was shining down on me like a spotlight; its glow crept to the ground and lit up every place where my eyes could wander. The sight and feeling was nearly inexplicable. It was like when you see the one person you love smile; when all the grey and dull clouds have dissipated from the atmosphere and the stars are allowed to breathe and shine, even the dying ones, and then your love smiles, and the light from them shines down on this little corner of the world: your corner. It lights everything up and you're able to see in the night, when all the other nights you've spent seemed so dark. The sky was alive that night, and I think somehow that same light that escaped the moon emitted a ray that whispered something to my heart. For my own sake, I hope my heart was listening.