by Ameng (2025.1.23)

(I)
Boredom soaks through my soul;  
Dullness gnaws at my marrow.  
Nothing holds meaning—  
I only feel the world upturned,  
Like a glass contraption—  
The embodiment of time,  
That flustering hourglass  
In league with illusion and absurdity,  
Seeking to grind me down, to crush me,  
Till I become dust, a grain of sand,  
Scattered into the unreal fiction  
Of an abstract yet concrete existence,  
Now but a mayfly devoured by time.  

(II)
Neither forward nor back,  
Segmented cause and effect weave events,  
Splintering the whole of me,  
Yet piecing me together in fragments.  
In the void,  
Time flows through my fading body,  
Then swirls back in the ebb of consciousness.  

(III)
Ah, this dull, hollow boredom—  
It spreads, it swells.  
Where is that joy,  
Born deep within soul and spirit,  
Rippling unbidden?  
Trapped in a cage,  
Upon the tower where time splinters and events converge,  
How can I seize the fleeting spark of inspiration  
Before it fades into deathly silence?  
And how can I be sure my search from this tower  
Is real, and not just a fleeting dream?  
Ah, this hollow boredom…

It could never work
You were a duchess
While I was a fool

But what a pretty
Dream it was...

Lyin’ on the bed,
dreamin’ of nightmares I’ve never met.
A glittering show of blood,
a scene that surely won’t be done.

Tick-Tackin’ is the clock,
I just don’t care about those eerie sounds beyond the lock,
whispers full of black,
like someone is trying to enchant a cat.

Earin’ knock-knocks on the door,
Death itself is down the hall,
it’s close enough to make me scared,
but far enough I barely care.

Sparkin’ is the future,
even if I already see some ugly failures.
I’m afraid, but I don’t hide,
so why should I even think that despair that’s no longer mine?

were you the prince of my dream
January and all the beautiful things
disappeared in one night
you were catching flight

your warmth, your smell
dumbfounded, were they lies
if it’s real why am I alone
my heart dropped like never before

In the stillness of long, lonely nights,  
Love's shadow dances, dimming the lights.  
A kiss once so sweet,  
Now a bittersweet feat,  
As I dream of you, missing the heights.

There’s something about late September
that makes me want to text people
I only miss when I’m too tired to lie.

There’s a moth in my mouth again.
I try to sing and it *****.

Some nights I rehearse conversations
with people I haven’t forgiven.
Some of them are alive.
Some of them are me.

I keep a list of people
I swore I’d stop dreaming about.
I keep dreaming anyway.

I talk to no one
like they’ll answer differently this time.
I wake up with a wingbeat
pressed into the backs of my teeth.

I think I’m leaking
something no one taught me how to name.
It leaves stains on my straws
It fogs the mirror before I do.
It answers to my voice
but only when I’m not using it.

There’s something about late September
that makes everything feel returned,
but not forgiven.
I don’t text them.
I let the silence say maybe I meant to.

on my shoulders rests
the whole world it's not heavy
i am a rock dream