World, forget me — grind my name to dust,
Let rot reclaim and turns my blood to rust.
Strip me bare of flesh and thread,
Unmark my grave, watch as i bled.

Erase the stain where I once stood,
Bleed out my soul into the wood.
Let crows feast where memory fades,
And silence howl through empty glades.

No prayers, no plea, no tender grace,
Just darkness folding in my place.
Let time spit out my bitter taste —
A shadow lost in deeper space.

World, forget me — not in peace,
But like a curse you must release.
Like breath you choke and force away,
Like light that dies and dares not stay.

Let no one speak what I became,
Let even grief forget my name.
No myth, no ash, no twisted tree —
Just nothing left.
So let it be.

My English teacher said The opposite of love
Is hate.
But it's not hate,
It's apathy.
Hate still breathes,
It's fiery, raw, and real.
But apathy?
Apathy is a void
Where nothing's left to feel.
No anger, no tears,
Just empty.
So if you ask what's worse,
Hate or apathy,
I'd say apathy,
The silence,
The hollow space, Where nothing is felt
And nothing is left
Between us.

She died at 7:07 a.m. PST. It is three hours earlier in Hawaii. Does that mean in Hawaii she hasn't died yet? But the plane ride to Hawaii is five hours long. This time gap can never be overcome. The difference is called grieving.

The war will end.
The leaders will shake hands.
The old woman will keep waiting for her martyred son.
That girl will wait for her lover to return.
And those children will wait for their heroic parent.
I don't know who sold our homeland.
But I saw who paid the price.

/'mad-nes/
noun
1. i forgot i had fists today. my heart decided to be vicious warrior. punch after punch, does it seek a glory? i'm washing my hands, they shine like red sunsets when I first found paradise.
Am i a murderer? or did i **** all my thoughts in self defence?
2. angels are talking behind my ear. they don't sound like the cruel laughter i know. they never leave (everyone always does) should i call this love a lie? for the first time I think I could be holy.
i almost smile.
3. my lips are full of ruby lies. smooth criminal dancing in forgotten light, put on a trail for breaking. for hurting, yesterday i tried to burn my mind, i left three bodies fading behind my back (all were mine mine mine) forgive me father for leaving those marks. mother says heaven doesn't want me anymore.

It's strange how your childhood sort of feels like forever. Then suddenly your sixteen and the world becomes an hour glass and your watching the sand pile up at the wrong end. And your thinking about how when you were just a kid, your heartbeat was like a kick drum at a rick concert, and now it's just a time bomb slowly ticking out. And it's sad. And you want to forget about dying, but mostly you just want to forget about saying goodbye.

Flowers bloom in my lungs, white like a frost-covered morning, their roots weave intricate walls around my heart, protecting it. But although they look pretty, I find I cannot breathe. The white suddenly seems more like a freshly cleaned gravestone, and the roots choke my heart in a cage lined with needlepoint thorns. The bright flowers once blooming in my lungs are now a wilted bouquet clutched in sweaty hands watered by salty tears.