Nothing is good enough. Tear the walls down.

Weak and vulnerable. Tolerance snaps.

Holes bored for hollow creatures that don’t cry.

Shattered glass mirror on the other side.

A hope, a wish, a candle with no wick.

No flame to light and the lamp has no oil.

Fervent and persistent, takes the wrong path.

Headstrong with no direction. Can’t go back.

An idol, a ladder, he hopes to climb.

Fallen a million times. Can’t get back up.

kisimul dungeon pit

kisimul dungeon pit (Photo credit: damiandude)

Impaled his chest, but his heart was so small.

No relief of burden. God points and laughs.

How can he not know, what cannot be known?

Pricked fingertip would have sufficed, but cruel.

Lessons are entertainment for the gods.

Let them laugh as he wriggles in the mud.

Covered in the slime and filth that he shits.

Helpless and abandoned, a spectacle show.

A ladder descends, imprints his fear face.

One for memory, for ages to hear.

The tale of the man who could not get up.

Not even for an instant. Betrayed wont.

Writhing and screaming for someone to care.

The silenced laughter echoes that they watch.

Unperturbed by fellows who offer naught.


The Monster

angry mob

She looks at him, looks away. Disgusted.

That feeds the monster. Makes him grow angry.

Look him in the eyes. Maybe there is more.

Window overlooking the horizon.

She will never know. Not even one chance.

The monster grows weary. Tired of games.

Look down, fake a smile, but don’t dismiss.

No student from class. This is punishment.

The monster gets no relief from his home.

The people, the comfort others offer.

The monster broods because he cannot breed.

There are no others like him that still live.

So the townspeople chase him with their eyes.

Solitude is confinement. Let him out.

Explore the world and not be chased away.

Too late for that. His heart shrinks every time.

Overwhelms the monster with his small brain.

Face turns to fire. The torture remains.

Like a scar that doesn’t leave, but festers.

The fire consumes, destroys his nothing.

Flames fill his vision, smoke inhaled. Choking.

Searing lungs just wanting to be released.

To cry for help, but there is nobody.

The sea comes to wash away destruction.

The waves crush him. He is drowning and dies.

Death too Soon

Part One: Tribute

A hero to all, enemy to none.

Invincible; who we wanted to be.

But life was too much for your soul to bear.

You warned us, told us it would happen soon.

Then claimed innocence when you failed at first.

Who would’ve guessed that success was failure?

That fulfillment was hollow and empty?

And of course, who did you have to turn to?

Who could be a rock to hold a boulder?

So many questions. God without answer.

The labor we would trade was unfulfilled.

Others surrounded to create the hole.

So you sought an exit from the vacuum.

Consume, consume, the leech and parasites.

Then it is done and you were left without.

So something else filled what should have been.

Something so precious, but not meant to last.

Disparity known, but eyes closed shut.

Live in the moment, flip off the future.

Abrupt halt before hurdling forward.

It wasn’t for you, should have chosen else.

Chart showing he circumstances for suicide in ...

Part Two: Forgotten

Yet you’re not alone, not the very first.

Brother who held hands at the mountain peak.

A troubled past that was, came uncovered.

Or the sickness that destroys what you were.

Stealing your identity, missing whole.

Being better doesn’t mean being best.

Expectations held, always above you.

The ones you hurt the most are your regrets.

Erasing the past can’t fix next Thursday.

Ever seeking, but the system hides it.

That thing that would make us better people.

Sometimes life was over when mistakes haunt.

Little things that eat away every day.

Some of us never make it to the top.

Our God a cruel child, loving misery.

To weigh the burden, yet never make it.

Sometimes your promises meant all too much.

The system has left you misunderstood.

Frustration lies where fruit doesn’t harvest.