Sinister Literature

I burn my sorrows in preparation to burn bridges of tomorrow. The language of God written by Devils who's words do I follow? Heartbreak awaits the pessimist. Headaches awake the realist. But life is but a dream to the optimistic idealist. My heart beats burn like turns through the furnace. My home is fully furnished but I yearn for something more nurturing. There's nothing new under the sun and the earth has come full circle again. I can't shake the feeling every time I reach for the stars someone raises my ceiling. The poison in the acid made me lucid. My addiction to bad habits labeled me a nuisance. My pen is fluent in cursing in cursive. Venting, freeing, and relieving. I relive the worlds I create to escape. A release when anxiety has a hold on me. I feel it's grip tightening. Every night I reach for the vice to my right because the dark is frightening. My silver lining in a thunderstorm is the flash of lightning. The damage is staggering but knowing it never strikes twice is reassuring.