Nightmares

There was a ferocious and malicious laughter inside him. It was, in truth, impotent.

There were tears, deep and large. The rain envied them, for they never fell. They stayed exactly where they were.

He mourned the found more than the lost. His knees were raw with worship.

There was Love towards the empty. An eternal embrace for the wind. With arms wide.

He hated the prophets. Hated them.

The will to power was broken. The meek had inherited the earth. The world stood paralyzed in revelation.

Everyone had that fake wisdom inside them. They shared with zeal to make it real.

Sticks and stones would break bones. Words would never wound. Silence bulldozed eternity.

Touches were forgotten. Forgotten touches were remembered.

Cold fusion was impossible. A pipe dream warmed thousands. Millions were disappointed.

The train was late. Again.

A series of hopes and smiles grew in the garden. For them, there was a season. They made for great bouquets.

Connections were left to the competent. Qualifications were minimal.

Leading onward was the mission. One foot in front of the other. Focus was the eyesight of the blind.

His job never noticed. They never cared.

The dark clouds withered. Their flesh called for carnivores. There was never a shortage.

His life was illusion. The magician’s hat was empty.

A sentence for every sin. A chuckle for every memory. The devil doesn’t mind his own mockery.

There should have been more. Beauty was the promise of old loves.

If only there were meaning.


I don’t know why it rained that day. I don’t know a lot of things, really. I have always had faith that the world would continue on as it always had. It would provide with what it needed to provide, would take what it would need to take, and when it was done, would cease being personified. But that rain was well timed.

There was thunder and lightning too. The house shook and my friends were wide eyed. I spent my time on the balcony. No one joined me. I was alone. God was my greatest conquest. And the sheets of liquid sparkled in the darkness.

If I was to drown, I would want it to be in the rain. The clamour of unequivocal nature muting the lunacy of your world. I would want to be blinded from your surroundings, and be numbed to your touch. A man should drown standing up, in a lake that touches the sky. He should be able to laugh at his own irony and feel his knees buckle.

My irony is vast. My hypocrisy is self-evident. It is by far enough to drown in. You hear me now, so trust me as you always have. You will never be close to me. No one ever will.

I’m a liar. A cheat. And I don’t give a shit. I don’t actually care about you. I never have and I never will. The words I gave you? They weren’t real. Facsimiles of dreams that I heard once. Nothing more. Listen to that carefully in your mind: Nothing more.

I have perfected the ability to look you in the eye and tell you your truth. I can tell you that your hair is nice. I can tell you why. I can say, in the most realistic of tones, “You are a credit to humanity and a downright decent human being, and I can prove it.” I imagine a compliment like a knife. All I have to do is strike the heart, and the rest will bleed out to the open air. I can make you feel like you fucking matter.

It’s a joke, really. You are nothing more than a fantastic one-liner in my life.


The Truth stood ready. Forever was it beyond the grasp of man.

Battles called the weary to rejoice. The dull is only paradise between fights. The sisters were right.

He pushes and he screams. He always dares to dream.

A thousand flashlights dim the dawn. The sun light’s up shades of grey. It’s always brighter with the blinds down.

He lived in empty clichés and full coffee shops. One day at a time.

Maps unravel with red arrows and white letters. Legends are clear. “You are here.”

The funeral was nice. He wore black.

Principle of Non-Contradiction. A law of logic. Emotion scoffs.

The mirror dripped. It was made with liquid judgement.

A girl once found fancy through the looking glass. A convenient fantasy. It was broken before it began.

A thousand moments would save his life. A thousand lifetimes could not save the moment.

Comedy and Tragedy entertain the masses. Ugly men deliver perfect lines. Shakespeare played a better Jesus.

Today was not one green light. His teachers lied.

Melodies sweeten the air. Artifice makes nature’s new perfume. The birds cannot compete.

He always went alone. It was never enough.

Starving children still laugh. Carefree adults still worry. Liars still love.

He had perfect potential. He preserved it.

Time is a measurement of change. For everything there is an ebb and flow. Immortality is to suffer indefinitely.

Nothing moved him like the thought of relief. It felt like nothing.

Death without significance.