Your edible words are Heaven sent, mine live in hope, and Hell delivers. I ding-dong ditch while knocking on deaths door, all of you are still looking for the raw frosty answers. A calm calamity clings to the horizon just for me, quenching this lodged sable anchor for a heart with muddy waters of murderous memories. Heed my pen, for I shall destroy all hope for myself. It is time to bask in the shadows of misty misery and eerie airings, until here I lie.
You read from the book of judging me, a biblical rain just for me. It floods from my eyes, so a mountain I must climb, to survive I must run and hide. Break my fingers, break my jaw, before my words can break the law, before each footstep takes a fall, unleash a dish served up cold. The biggest liar in my world is my anxiety. Am I going through hard times or am I just going through life? I don’t know…
Yes, I drink too much, I take a shot of encourager and then they take shots at my character, I won’t swallow their truths. I can make the skies scream vermilion and the ground quakes voiceless, the winds calm breeze has barbs and waters are all sun-baked. It was the end of times; it was the best of times. Every time I try and blow myself, even a little, I find someone who wants to blow me up.
I’m beaten when I sleep until I awake to morning stars, now; I hate to be the bearer of bad news but all your light has been stripped bare. I will not bow to you, I will not bow to you, I will pilfer this bounty and pocket these mountains from you.
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psychowriteralex@gmail.com is my e-mail
Alexander Writes 
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