Smokes

Smokes

Why is it that in sad or upsetting times I’m drawn to smokes? I quit years ago, though the smell doesn’t bother me and sometimes I feel like a nice long draw from a dart could do some good. At least emotionally. Cigars are nice too, but too slow a burn for those quick breaks I sometimes crave. I crave the burn. The throat hit. The mouthfeel. Smoke drifting out from loose lips. Maybe cigarillos would do some good. A…

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Silence

Silence

Silence Deafening Unable to say anything To do anything Pained Grieving loss I struggled for some time Before thinking I was finally ok But the feelings surged Returned They plague my every thought My every action My dreams My nightmares A lost hope Embers Kindling Smoldering in the ashes of the past A phoenix Unable to rise again Silent Brooding

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year dear readers! I don’t typically do the whole resolutions thing, but this new year; this new decade; I am going to work on my physical and mental health, focus, work on, and eventually complete, old and new projects, and definitely write more. Even got a planner and everything! Here’s to a new year, a new decade, and a new work ethic! Much love, Mitch

Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays

Happy Holidays. Expected this time of year. Bell-laden music full of proverbial cheer fills the air as people dash to and fro from shop to store, filling their arms with as many gifts and toys as they can carry. They say money can’t buy happiness. But ‘tis the season for it. Everyone fights to give and get the best gifts, for whoever gives the best gift is deemed the pinnacle of human generosity. All sense of reality goes out the…

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Sleep is for the Weak

Sleep is for the Weak

Sleep is for the weak They say If that’s true Then why am I still awake? I feel weak Mentally Physically Emotionally I can’t seem to hit snooze Most nights It’s the same thing Craving affection and love Just a warm touch A hug Only for a few seconds Puts my mind at ease So why can’t I sleep? Because Sleep is for the weak

Rabbit Hole

Rabbit Hole

Down the rabbit hole I wentDown, down, and downPast cards, gears, and watchesThrough a dark void of nothingness I landed on a cold, tile floorBlack and white checkerboardBefore me lay an eternal hallwaySpiraling onward into darkness I wandered down the pathAimless and confusedUntil before me stood a doorWith a face for a knocker I lifted the hammer and it fellOnto the heavy oak doorThe thunk echoedIn all directions The door openedI walked throughAnd before meStood me Head in handsTears dripping…

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I Am

I Am

Sipping whiskey on the rocks Feeling the burn as it courses down my throat Listening to Franky Blue Eyes Singing along to Summer Wind Thinking about the words and the melody Grasping at ideas and migrant thoughts Smiling with sadness Understanding the meaning Wishing I could fix the past Hoping for greener grass past this hill Going with the ups and downs Living the best way I can every day Loving life and the people in mine

Never Stop Climbing

Never Stop Climbing

Life is like a cold, harsh mountain. We climb it, Pausing to rest occasionally before continuing up towards the summit. And though the peak is but a legend, Something only dreamed of, We must push onward. For if we stop, If we give up, We simply freeze where we stand, Lifeless statues that serve as warnings to those who follow. Never stop climbing. Excelsior.

Writing Whys

Writing Whys

Why is it that I can only write when I’m in a dark place in my life? Why can I never find the words to put on the page unless I’m fucking dying inside? Why? If only there was an answer that didn’t just serve as a reminder. If only there was a way around it. But it’s an art-form. One which draws out our deepest feelings, positive and negative. An art that is both benevolent and malevolent simultaneously. Read…

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