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Ink Jan 2017
You are you.
You care about the little things;
About money and status,
About love and power.
You care about right now.
And about nothing more
     But there is so much more to see.

Take a step back
Now you are human.
Your place in society is precious.
You, just as everyone else, are worth something .
You care about justice,
About the state of your world
And it hurts you
     But you know you suffer less than others.

Take another step back
You are a body.
Your presence is replaceable and unfelt.
Your days are spent seeking pleasure and pain.
You live only to feel alive
Knowing that you’ll soon be dust blowing in the wind
And it makes you feel temporary
     But you last longer than you know.

On your last step back
You are a soul.
You feel no pain nor pity- nothing at all
You live in sickly silent peace
As you float aimlessly through time.
You are a piece of the universe
Hoping that the clocks will stop some day
And you will be called to rest
     But your piece in this universe will never die.

You are so much more than your shell.
You are the past, the present and the future
Embodied in a distracted human being.
You are every fibre of the universe that has created you.
You are eternal yet temporary
And it’s confusingly simple
     But you won’t realize your worth unless you *step back.
Ink Jan 2017
She’s not worth your tears

They’re more than sad salt water
They are the raw symbolism of your most vulnerable state

Don’t show that to someone who will abuse it, darling.
Don’t show them to her.
Ink Jan 2017
Stress has carved its scars on your forehead.
Joy has softened the edges of your eyes.
You wanted beauty, but you got wisdom instead.
To you, the years have not been kind
Ink Jan 2017
When I hurt I feel alive
To feel nothing at all is a desire to die
Ink Dec 2016
she is not afraid to love, she is afraid of being loved. she is afraid of him putting all his faith in her, just so she can break down, as she does so often, and shatter a bond not found in anyone else. she is afraid to see him cry and to tear the heart he so willingly exposes.

when he needs her, she is there. she uses that time to help him just as she does to help herself. as they speak, she tries to memorize the sound of his rumbling voice. her words are soft with him but never so soft as for him to fall into a slumber and never desire to wake up. she wants him to find a replaceable solace within her presence.

she loves him silently, cares for him without pay. she acts like she doesn't need his money when she aches for it, as we all do. eventually her heart will break from a lack of reciprocity. she knows this, yet she has set her path onto love-bound self-destruction. as long as he doesn't love her, she can keeping loving him. such is the life of the volatile.
Ink Dec 2016
my existence is spent
pondering over life
as if it is only thought of
but never lived
Ink Aug 2016
I do not long for what once was
I do not dream of what could be
I only think about what could have been
I know these regrets will be the end of me
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