I’ve been wrong about a lot, but one big thing is that this can’t be fixed. It can be fixed! It can be fixed! It can be fixed! There’s one way. Just one.
The author and site owner can be reached at leeundercedartrees@gmail.com.
I’ve been wrong about a lot, but one big thing is that this can’t be fixed. It can be fixed! It can be fixed! It can be fixed! There’s one way. Just one.
The quieter I become
The further I withdraw
Fading from my own view
…
Simmering envy
Seeing others bravery
Fearfully, I live
Whispering engine
Doubts creeping, should not be here
Among melting snow
Apx. 7:15 – 7:30 p.m.
A quarter century of shadows
Coating the brain
Decades of void
Staining the heart
I’m casting these dice
Hoping for another night at the table
Either I go bust, fade into nothing
Or I find my fortune and live on
…
The end feels already written
But is it merely ink on paper, or etched in stone?
Delicate, easily torn
Many anxious evenings
I want to burn every word I’ve written
…
Over a great bonfire of massive flames
Reaching for the atmosphere
Dreaming of visiting the stars
…
Voice can’t be found as
Imaginary eyes see
All my unknown faults
(Anxiety is omniscient.)
Some nights after twilight settles
Evening fears creep into view
Rolling into the night under that cold moon
Usually to fade with the sunrise
But only after they haunt
…