Sometimes, in a middle of an amazing dream you wake up and there is no stopping it. The real world comes crashing in shattering every piece of fantasy in our ancient china shop we've raised on our own.

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A silence of solitude,

Where thoughts are car chases

starting with a thrill,

ending in a crash.

My thoughts are bullets,

in which have been shot inside

my guts.

Like knots,

are my intestines as they make that ever

So loving,

noose

to set me loose. <3

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A cancerous arsenal,

I can't escape,

From my self-hate.

This cancerous arsenal,

grows and spreads

Day by day,

making me fade.

This cancerous arsonal

is burning me down,

abandoning me

to ashes,

for the wind to blow me away,

only to be forgotten.