Ever feel like you can't breath

Does existence cut too deep?

Insomnia's claws can kill, I realize.

Ever feel like you're alone?

Does house not feel like home?

Lie awake cause insomnia's a bitch.

They say it'll be alright

That they'll never leave your side

But it's a lie, lie.

Everybody falls down, all the way down

most have strength to get up.

But I can't stand up for what's real

why should I stand for me?

Everybody falls down, all the way down

you just gotta get back up.

Even when your knees are weak,

let me save your broken pieces.

Ever feel like it's too much,

too much yet never enough?

When the pills don't act until forever.

Yeah I swear I know what it's like

To have the too-perfect life

Maybe you don't know it but I'm not better.

Mama I'm not alright

I need to leave this life

It's not alright-ight.

Everybody falls down, all the way down,

but sometimes falls can kill

I don't wanna get up, get up,

because I'm tired of living this lie.

Everybody falls down, all the way down

pain won't make me cry.

You can beat me, mistreat me,

but you'll never defeat me.

Everybody falls down, all the way down,

I'm tired of holding on tight.

I'm not gonna get up, gonna get up

Not gonna make it through this time.

Everybody falls down, all the way down,

the chorus ain't makin' this right.

The best part of the song is over now, goodbye to the fight.

Not gonna make it through this time.

Time, time,

who cares if I make it through this time?

Time, time,

why bother to fight when no one's online?

Time, time,

why write when you can rhyme?

Time, time,

not gonna make it through this time.

I highly recommend checking out the original song, Falls by ODESZA ft. Sasha Sloan.

the stars and the moon

shining for me and you

dancing twilights

a mirage of magic nights

crossing oceans

nirvana neverland

Hopeful hymns

drunk droopy dreams

looped lazy lips

pressed polietly against each other

stardust souls

tipsy tiger lillies

pyschdellic panises

die before we wake

sleeping sirens

serene sleep

lost in each other

slung over

the caracass of us

stupidly starstruck

stream of memories

burning daylight

forever don't exist

between the light years

so we keep jumping time zones

until we meet

will chase the dawns

we'll pull each other through the screens

we'll keep live diffrent lives

just to have day to ourselves

will sleep in dream catchers

will become kaidloscopes

will orbit like the solar system

your my rainbow , I am at the gold at the end of it

I'll steal the moon , and place the sun in the sky

it will be our midnight sun

I'll fall alseep , just to see you in my head

Jump in my bed , and stay until our tommorrows merge under one sun

Young man: Table for two please.

Restaurant hostess: Right this way.

Young man & woman: Thank you!

Restaurant hostess: I shall inform the waiter to head over here to your table right away.

Young man: (Nods his head) Thank you.

Ororo: (to herself) He seems like such a gentleman. (Smiles)

Loki: (Clears throat) So, what do you think of the restaurant I picked?

Ororo: Well, (looks at the menu)- they have a wonderful menu. I can’t wait to try it all. I mean (Laughs) only some of it.

Loki: (Chuckles) Go ahead and order as much as you like. I’ll pay for it all. (Smiles)

Ororo: (Stares in amazement) Really? Alright.

As the young couple have a good time- they soon hear a click of a pen. Their waiter smiles at them & pulls out her notepad from her front shirt pocket.

Waiter: Good evening. What would you two like to drink?

Loki informs Ororo to order first. She orders a lemonade drink. Loki orders a Mead.

The waiter asks them if they are ready to order their meal. Loki doesn’t pick quite yet or even know if he really wants to have any simple food. But Ororo glances at him and tells him that he should try at least eating something from the menu.

Loki: I’ll have - um, the (stares at the menu) ...goat meat and er~ hmm— fresh bread.

Ororo: (Chuckles) And I will have the fried rice, baked potatoes, mixed vegetables, pork,.....

Loki looks at the menu as Ororo orders. How can one being eat so much food in one seating? She has the appetite of the Norse gods!

Ororo: Last- but not least, I’d also like some of the fresh bread. That is all—- for now. Thank you.

The waiter nods her head and grabs the menus from the table. Loki yawns as the waiter walks away from the dining area and disappears into the kitchen.

Ororo: Tell me about yourself- Loki.

Loki: Ah, where shall I begin. (Stares into space) It all started when I was only a child. A little baby hidden away from my own kind.

Ororo stares and Loki listening attentively. Then she also wonders what Loki could be staring at.

Loki tells Ororo of his childhood. His hatred for his brother. Whom he doesn’t like being next to at all. The only person he tries to get along with is his father. No matter how many times he tries to prove himself to his father, his brother always ends up being seen as the Hero. Loki frowns. Ororo places takes a hold of his hands and smiles at him. This calms Loki down.

Waiter: Excuse me. Your drinks. And your food will soon be ready.

Loki: (takes a sip of his mead).

Ororo: Thank you. (Places a straw in her glass of lemonade).

Loki: (Sighs) Anyway...enough about me. I would love to know more about you.

Ororo: I am from Kenya. It’s a country in Africa. I come from an Ancient line of African Priestesses.

Loki: Wow. That’s amazing. We both have powerful people in our family.

Ororo: I guess we do.

In a short while, the waiter comes back with a giant tray of food. Loki rubs his hands together and his mouth transforms into a beak. He tweets as the food is placed before him.

Ororo and the waiter both stare in shock & wonder at Loki’s beak. Loki smiles and his beak changes back to his usual human mouth form.

The two enjoy their meal. They even raise their drinks for a toast to a beautiful night.

At the end of the night, the two beings walk together out of the grand restaurant.

Ororo stops in her tracks and looks at the night sky.

Loki: Anything wrong?

Ororo: Oh. It’s nothing.

Loki notices that her eyes are now a different colour. They change from dark chestnut to a milky bright clear eye colour.

Then out of nowhere grey clouds appear in the late sky. Luckily, Loki carried an umbrella in case it would rain. He pulls an umbrella from his grey vintage leather bag. And places it above Ororo’s head.

Loki: I don’t want you to get soaked.

Ororo: Have some fun Loki.

Loki watches Ororo spin around in the rain. She nearly falls. In a quick flash Loki catches her and feels like the world has stopped spinning.

Ororo smiles and places her hands on Loki’s face. She reaches for him and closes her eyes. Loki does the same and feels like sparks were going in the air.

[The next day/morning.]

Ororo: (Sighs) Good morning O great King of Asgard.

Loki: (Laughs) Good morning High Priestess.

Ororo: I don’t usually let strangers in my apartment.

Loki: (Smiles) I’m the only exception.

Later during the day- Loki said goodbye to his Priestess. But he told her that he’d be with her soon. First he had to spend some time with his Father and the Norse gods. Right after that he would be with Ororo again. She would be the one to pick a different place for the next date.

#SuperChemistry

#SuperDateNight

The lights are out ,i sent in the daunting silence

Awakening the Aura the trembling tremors of taunting thoughts

Suppressed sundowns , satire sunsets slapped across a sloppy smile

Grumbled out I am fine

Eyes glossed over , grazed cover thighs criss-crossed razor sharp lines

Tyranny tears , body shakes over the coffin , i created in my bed you see I ripped out the cotton in the middle of it and stuffed my body in there

The demons came again , this time they had no mercy

Drinking of your own blood wasn’t enough

Tied a noose around your neck around that dreaded word Love

You held on until the love you’s stopped

And the razor slits wasn’t enough to keep you sane

You implanted in my brain , this high I can’t seem live without

I popped pills , placed on pretty plate and try to eat the bullshit

But i kept vomiting the truth even if it kills me

I down another shot , I reload every time the last one aint strong enough to pull the trigger

I plant my headstone at this place , i used to call this place home

I fade into the ghost , I always wished to be

I’ll kiss the lips of the devil and call it a revial

See my soul is black and blue

Bruised from baby boy blues and batterd cotton candy kisses that taste like liquor tinged lies christened with foreign nights that can’t remember tomorrow's matter

Yelling yesterday's ranging in my ear

press -played past , that only resume to the future

Where the car radio hums , and liquor bottles stolen from the parents cabinet

This is where you dealt with grief , then it became an addiction

You put yourself in painful situations to just know you feel

The numb feels so real , the smile jokes this is what death feels like

I am too deep in this to pull out , maybe you’ll kill me

I like the silence , this is when the violence rages in and the fist collide into the walls

And turns into the abusing of myself

I am a happy beat , with sad lyrics

I know this is suicide

But I remember at the age of eight

I was told angels

Are the ones that want to fly

I knew I was angel

Because I could never stop testing my wings

I just wanted to know

how high i can soar

and

How quickly it will take me to fall

I been praying to death

And he came

he held in his hand

A rose

And plucked the thorns

Out

And showed

Me

How to cut

love can be razor

it can cut out the one thing you need to live

a heart

it beats 1 pace to fast when you face me

2 pace to slow when you turn your back to me

see I fell comfortable in alone

and hug the lonely

when the urgue to live

almost's feels like a shadow

impossible to live behind

without the ghost following you there

cause even devils get buried

bitch burn in hell

star-crossed lover

sincerly , oblivion

I sat down by the River Styx

grappled with pain

of stinging blackness

       Dead souls across the river

ride of life and death

elevator of existence

cascading to bottomless pit

       Dead souls across the river

ferryman looks straight ahead

sensing endless journey

from one world to next

       Dead souls across the river

coffins split wide open

tormented souls flailing

a solo glacial passage

       Dead souls across the river

hitchhikers step to onyx side

tasting speed in which they sail

cold breeze in knotted sky

       Dead souls across the river

birds of prey spear entrails

frozen pallor of death

seething water of man’s curse.

       Dead souls across the river

warning cries of timid ancestors

proclaim icy slinging of mud

pale white horse of death

       Dead souls across the river

     Todd bangs the door open, making Jezebel leap off the couch and bolt for the kitchen. He follows her with an armful of grocery bags which he dumps unceremoniously onto the floor. Jezebel huddles over two large food bowls in the corner. He drags a bag of cat food over to her and she backs away, a snarl gathering in her throat.

      “Shut up,” he says as he pours the kibble into a bowl. The bag is heavy and the bowl soon overflows, sending brown pellets flying everywhere. Jezebel sits back on her haunches and waits. He scrapes the congealed substances out of three cans into the second bowl. Finally, he takes out a zip-locked bag of chopped steak from the fridge and garnishes the two dishes with a flourish.

     She waits until he moves away to waddle over to the bowls. She watches him as she settles her mass over the bowls and wolfs down the food.

     There is a knock on the door, a muffled voice, and he groans. The doorknob shakes furiously and the knocking grows more insistent.

     “Toddy? I forgot my keys and I’m running late—”

     He picks up the two bowls and hides them underneath the sink. Jezebel hisses and lashes out and he kicks her hard. His foot connects solidly into her soft middle and launches her, yowling, into the air. She streaks out of the kitchen.

     “What’re you doing? Open the door!”

     He runs out the kitchen and through the living room. Someone is pounding on the other side now and he quickly unlocks the door and throws it open.

      “What took you so long?” she asks and freezes, her eyes narrowing. She is a large woman, pale, with blonde hair corkscrewing down her back. Her tight dress compresses her large breasts into soft, white mounds that spill over a low-cut neckline, reminding him of pillows and snowdrifts and other things that necessitate face-planting.

      Todd follows her gaze to the trail of scattered kibble on the kitchen floor.

      “Todd! You know she’s on a diet. The vet said every pound gained—”

      “—is a year lost,” Todd said, grinning.

     She shoves his shoulder. “This is serious!”

     He quickly rearranges his features into a more serious mien.

     “I’m really sorry, honey,” he says. “I just want to try to make friends with it. You know how pets are with food.”

     “I think that’s more of a dog thing,” she says.

     “Yeah, well, I’ll win her over some day.” He puts his arms around her and pulls her towards him. His hands wander over the protruding swells of her breasts, in what he used to call his mammary gland inspection, and she pushes him away and says, “Todd, I can’t be late,” when he feels an ascending trail of fire, as claws pierce the soft flesh of his calf like grappling hooks and scale up his back.

     He yells out as he flails his arms behind him in an awkward backwards grapple.

      “Fucking thing!” he says and manages to spear his fingers into the loose fat of Jezebel’s neck, and pitch her over his head and onto the floor.

      “Todd!” Tonya shrieks and picks up the cat, while Jezebel trembles and meows pitifully.

      “Did you see that?” he says, before she could say anything. “It attacked me!”

      "You are unbelievable,” she says and turns her back on him. He knows that this move signals the conclusion of the incident, but the injustice of it all burns within him as bad as the lacerated flesh on his back, and he attempts to rectify the situation by speaking in what he hopes is a calm and reasonable tone.

      “Oh, so this is my fault now? It’s my fault when your cat tries to tear me a new asshole?”

      He flinches as she about-faces suddenly.

      “You threw her!” she says. The cat meows loudly in her arms as if in gloating affirmation, and for an unnerving moment he is confronted by two identical faces, large and white and hostile.

      He holds out his hands in a placating gesture.

      “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he says.

     After she leaves, Todd slumps on the couch.

     He sees the cat slink over to him slowly, tail lashing. It has something in its mouth. He can’t see what it is until the cat deposits it on his naked foot and even then he stares down at it in blank surprise until he realizes that the thing is a decapitated, disemboweled carcass of a rat, still warm, and he leaps up from the couch, the thing falling off in little bloody droplets onto the carpet. Jezebel saunters off into the kitchen, tail held high.

     He sways on his feet, shaking uncontrollably, and takes several deep breaths to try to quell the rising bubbles of nausea. He listens to the meows get louder and more insistent.    

    There is a new sound now, a faint scrabbling that he cannot locate. After a while, he walks into the kitchen and retrieves the hidden bowls. He adds another bowl on the floor next to them and pours a mixture of wet and dry cat food in it and stands back and watches the cat make the food disappear.

      Tonya is in the bathroom getting ready for bed when he finally asks her.

     “Have you smelled cigarette smoke lately?”

     She addresses his reflection in the mirror. “No, I don’t think so. Why?”

     He watches her brush her teeth.

     She spits and says, “Maybe it’s coming from next door.”

     When they get into bed, he nuzzles her neck and leans in for a kiss. She rolls away just as Jezebel leaps up on the bed between them. He feels her raspy purring through the sheets. He moves as far away as he can on the bed and turns away. But he still feels that green gaze burning into him, and it is a long time before he falls asleep.

      In the morning he wakes up to Tonya calling to him from the bathroom.

     “I can’t believe this,” Tonya says. She walks into the bedroom cradling the cat to her chest like an infant. The cat turns its surly face toward Todd.

     “Doesn’t she look bigger to you? I think she’s gaining weight.”

      “Looks the same to me,” Todd says.

      “Todd, what if it’s serious? It could be a tumor or something.”

     “Honey, it’s nothing,” Todd says. “Don’t worry about it. You know most diets make you gain before you lose.” He has no idea if this is true or not. She looks at him skeptically.

      “She’s going to be fine,” he says. “Trust me.”

     Todd sees the cat sidling over in his direction and he clutches at the yardstick at his side. It was a valuable discovery, the yardstick; hard and pliant, emitting satisfying sounds as it comes into contact. He has already tried it out on Jezebel that morning when she had ambushed him with another rodent corpse. Now the cat watches him warily and approaches with a slow caution.

     The infestation gets worse. The scurrying noises in the walls start after dusk and continue throughout the night. Todd yardsticks Jezebel so often that she takes to hiding the rat bodies underneath the bed. On hot days the stench of rot is overwhelming. They call over Frank, the apartment manager, who is also the maintenance man; although Todd secretly sneers at those acclaimed jack-of-all-trades kind of fellows. He wanders around in the kitchen and gets on his hands and knees to check underneath the panels. Todd watches him. When Frank stands back up and walks towards him, Todd looks at the bulging front of his jeans and then looks up and realizes that Frank is watching him, watching him stare at his crotch. He clears his throat.

     “So—ah, how bad is it?” he asks.

      He finally confronts her and watches, wretchedly, as she cries and cries.

     “How can you accuse me of that?” she sobs, as tears pour down her cheeks and create black rivulets of eyeliner. So he apologizes. Then he goes on his knees and begs for forgiveness. She smiles through her tears and he feels the familiar surge of relief and love bursting through his chest.

     So they continue. He picks up her messes, he watches her lie in bed with the cat marooned on the round island that is Tonya’s stomach, and in her scolding presence he measures out careful amounts of vegan cat food for Jezebel, which she eats reluctantly. He basks in the familiar musky scent of her, his wife, and in return she allows him to touch her soft body the way a supplicant will tentatively reach out to an idol, his hands tracing her curves and cupping the areas she doesn’t want noticed, until she yells at him and stands in front of the mirror crying about how fat she is. It becomes a perfunctory routine, along with concocting daily fatty dishes for the cat to eat.

     When Tonya goes out, which is often, he sits on the couch and stares into space or follows Jezebel around, in hopes of finding evidence. He stops this when he notices that the cat gets more exercise this way—the more his presence unnerves her, the more she runs around the apartment in an attempt to avoid him. He increases her daily portions.

     He walks out of work one morning without telling anyone, and when he gets home he creeps through the door. Jezebel, accustom to his more explosive entrances, fails to hear him and continues to lick herself by the couch. The windows are open and he smells cigarette smoke, sees the mug converted to ashtray on the coffee table, the two empty wine glasses. The bedroom door is closed. He runs his hand over his wife’s discarded jacket on the couch.

     Jezebel has one leg over her head as she tries to reach the soft white fur on her engorged underbelly. Her head snaps up at his approach and she hisses and lashes out with her declawed paws. Glutted with food and lethargy, she fails to move fast enough.

     There is a long wailing sound like a siren; a crescendo of screeching that goes on and on before it cuts off abruptly.

      He goes back to the couch and turns on the TV. With one hand tapping the yardstick against his thigh, he settles back into the couch and waits.

Her eyes rolled wildly like wind blowing down each person as they entered the club. And her thick eyelashes captured them like spiders and threw each one against the wall, splat. Imagine that. Her judging them. It was her turn to get the winning numbers tonight, in the lottery of men's phone numbers. The lights were like fireflies, leading everyone to move faster, be more alive like them. But she was like an ice burg only melting a little on each side they took. There were three men sitting in the back of the club with slick suits and ragged looks on their faces, as usual. She didn't want them. She wondered if they had wives and what they had told their wives if they did. She was there alone, of course. It seemed everyone else was together. In on something better than anything she could know. Society. She knew she had to get out or she'd never be "in." And right now, she was totally out of it. But, three beers down and still couldn't relax completely. It was the looks other woman gave her. They didn't stay friends with her long. And men, easier, but still not the ones she wanted. Her tight, ocean blue skirt was crawling up her short legged nude nylons. Her pot belly sticking out a little too far under her tight black lace tank top. Her old leather jacket from high school, also a little tight. Anger nestled its way under her skin, and her heart. Anger against everyone. Now she was down to an icicle, her core, hanging from the building, about to melt a little more and accidentally knock someone out. There was no escaping tonight, even if she was out. Not from herself. And no one spoke to her all night.

Pain is a synonym for the life He lived

for you

Compelled by love, there nothing He wouldn't do

for you

though a cardiac stricken ache, He Kept breathing to extend your breath.

He emerged from the rags of life on his mission of reconciliation,

Knowing the cost, He still ignored hesitation,

He brutally lost His cousin John with no consolation,

He seemed to have not allowed himself to fully grieve cause they needed his help.

He knew the rejection coming though He was willing to suffer for your acceptance- took the nails for your repentance-

Guilty of none of your crimes but He took the weight of the sentence.

.Do you know his pursuit for you was RELENTLESS.

He showed love to the unloved and laid seeing eyes on the forgotten,

undoing the evil clutches that we were caught in,

Rejected in his hometown (there's that familiar scent)

Isolated and persecuted because he was Heaven sent.

And of the disciples claimed close to His heart,

He dined and taught them knowing they would leave him from the start.

blind eyes opened like the red sea, souls redeemed form suppressed suffering,

year long cried turned into praise, palms laid on a Sunday.

All leading up to one day...

The crowds that once sang his praise demanded for his death,

Rejection, what a companion, was the only one left.

Innocent as if he were a lamb lead to being slaughtered,

He shared the shame of those guilty of theft.

His beating lashes punctuated with spits of scorn,

He bathed in the pain and wore the crown of thorns,

He chose not to summon angels to prove His worth and fame

and told the Father, " Forgive them..." as He took the blame.

The closest encounter with perfection had to endure the ultimate rejection.

one day you might accept Him that died for you, and Be accepted**

       He's never this cold. The warmth of his smile sublime dry ice. When the frosty moon bites my unprotected night, his sunny words lit my yellow soul. He's the only star in my galaxy.

   He hits me when I misbehave. Complaints and gambles my minimum wage. After his debt grazed our properties, paranoia and whiskey became his buds.

     "Your food is getting warm, won't you eat?"

He flares like a discharge of molten plasma

      "Woman, I'm thinking, let me be."

The rocks of a mountain stumbling down, his right palm like  thunder meets my face, the storm in my eyes begins to rain. He won't even look at me. It's like I'm his shadow that doesn't exist. We once did things together, trips and parks. Now, I'm an obstacle that needs to be removed. Where is that man that once loved me? He never stood farther than ten centimetres from me.   We played scrabble and chess for weeks. Every single sub-particle of moments was rich with love.

          Now, as I walk pass his favourite chair, the stench of irritation absorbs the air. Choking for attention, my wits deflects downwards. The walls of silence are louder than thousands of sirens. My head disconnects from my backbone and my sorrowful lungs. As the mighty sun sits on the western wings, my heart is set on a bow taut string, ready to dive to loneliness.

     Planetary bodies distort time and space. The heaviness of his body only pulled me away. The little emptiness I felt when he was alive, ripped wide open, as I mourn at his wake. The giant star of my galaxy is dead. His kidney exploded in liquor supernovas and left me with a black hole of devastation.

`    He was not my husband or my lover. He was and still is my only mother.

                "I love you, daddy, rest in peace."