Thursday, May 8, 2014


When the abyss stares back at you -
you Kurt Cobain, you David Foster Wallace -
and you feel that black hole suck your life and thoughts,
and others could never understand,
but they might

That shotgun and rope starts to
tempt and neither God nor Boddah
could save you from the void

You'd rather throw your works of art
out the window with your soul, replete
with ignored or forgotten success

Nothing - not even success,
not even thoughts of
lovers present or past
can withstand the sucking gravity

Thoughts become a burden,
emotions run in crazed frenzies,
and it doesn't matter if they are
good or bad

Thinking is a sign of life
and life can be so unfortunate

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