Lost or Hidden?

There it is again:

Be weird.

‘Write about happy things.’

Be random.

This image depicts

Be who you are.

my loneliness and desperation.

Because you never know

But why hide those words

who would love

when I display

the person

this picture?

you hide.

On the Feeling of Things

This void in the chest;

A vacuuming hole.

Ερος or Θανατος—

Still standing nearby.

‘Come take me,’ you say

To both creatures—at once.

The 陰 and the 陽;

Nature of being undone.

Hypothesis: 'But Then You Write a Poem and You're Fine'

Bone cave. Capable of holding the life of death. Perhaps waiting

is death enough. If only convincing was needed: all will be well;

all manner of things; be well, be well. Been swallowing placebos,

knowing their lie—they prove less effective when death is needed

for biology festering inside. Maybe truth is void—death without

life. Only in the mind—this narrative of mine—a personal Hell—

isolation—punishment—just—divine—