Circles

The mind moves around

Like a nervous dog

Sniffing on old

Memories of failure

And abuse

.

What could have

Been done different

Or better

Too late

Too late

Creating a fantasy

That evaporates

In thin air

The mind try to

Rest

But there is no

Refuge in sleeping

Flashback returns

Again and again

Like a beggar

Never satisfied

Never happy

Always demanding

That stones

Turns to gold

.

Cleaning Up

Cleaning out the dirt

Destroying and creating

New patternas

I am not going to break down

Again, no

Not anymore

I just have to through it out of the system

All the lose ends being put together

Like a web

 

Frost bites

Attuned to the hopelessness

Of the day as it presented itself

I continued in the same mode

Not much to do or achieve

Just the mistake of being me

In a very cold place

I had to accept and fall off

Discreetly leaving the

Disasters I caused by being me

Behind for other to clean up

If at all possible

Sinking In

When the energy is lost

You sink into the coma of

Self-reflection steering into that

Strange mirage that pretend to be you

The turbid picture makes a strange impression

Depression and self-pity combined with

Contempt is acid for the soul

Even mindless drinking is better than that

Our mind is constructed with the Thanatos

In mind creating the option of suicide quick

Or slow that takes decades

Only mad action can cure that

Evening

Friday a good day

For fraud and getting

Drunk after work

I did neither

Just listening to the wind

And the children playing

From the Inside

Inside Out 

Being on the inside is so nice

Things becomes clear

Visible 

The fear is gone

Leaving only some shiverings behind

Changing the perspective 

In so many new ways

I am trapped here in time and in my mind

Below is the land

Only a playing field

Projections of the sun

Changes the perspective 

In perpetual ways