thoughts. dreams. escapes.

Weak and sad most of the time,

in secret—faking it, is making it.

Missing the high of ADD meds.

Missing the ease of checking out with a drink.

Missing the liquid borders of 420.

Missing a break from the happy-faking.

Tired,

but just of Life.

Dreams to escape the tedious Life,

Life of boredom and laziness,

Life of failure and broken hearts,

Purposeless Life,

weak Life.

Nothing planned goes right,

Nothing goes right unplanned.

Fucked in the darkness, by a knight or a monster—

Dreams, Demons and Angels all reside—

Inside me.

I don’t want to know the truth anymore.

I hate the sound of the Bible stories—

I hate the whispers of the spirit gods,

I hate the messages I cannot ignore.

I have no peace in this mind.

I have no peace in this body.

I have no peace in this land.

Sobriety gives no escape from Thought—

I dream to escape

Thoughts.

Many tones

of Thoughts,

Many pitches

of Thoughts,

Many personalities

of Thoughts,

Many pains and temptations of love and hatred.

exhausted—

with no shut off.

Left to listen to endless Thoughts,

loud, confused and broken—

Thoughts,

Until I stop breathing.

And maybe not even then.