Frozen freedom,
its flowing nature
too cold to escape
and pressure
will only make it crack,
breaking into pieces.
Fiction and poetry writing, recapturing the muse.
Frozen freedom,
its flowing nature
too cold to escape
and pressure
will only make it crack,
breaking into pieces.
Jump into darkness
then retreat
and calculate
a new way
to understand,
will it work?
The empty space
did not respawn
a final moment,
and so you
stand alone,
the choice
to begin again
or stagger on
with the path
dark and gone.
Fall into the hole
I have trapped myself
and awaken
my instinct
to protect
what I’ve already lost,
but what else
do I have left?
Count the months
of change
and describe
a hope
of solutions
that will make
it all worth it
and give
the biggest change
of all.
Weasel in some guilt
to sway the outcome
and take advantage
of the luxuries
now at your disposal,
just like in childhood
their emotions
are not a factor.
Dread a day of learning,
teaching with no time
and expecting
feedback of disappointment.
A sigh of relief
at the absence
even as you
struggle alone.
Paint your eyes
over to see
only the happiness,
the life you fought for,
and not the one
you’re inflicting
on the unwilling,
the one that will
be your end.
Drown the world
with cold
and breathe for me
as I beg for release.
No end will come.
Do you hate me
that much?
Convert my life
for your benefit,
an acceptable sacrifice
that won’t spark
your conscience,
because how could you
ever be wrong
or evil?