Zee Blog

Random thoughts.

A part of me wants to write a poem, but I never do it in any significant way. It tends to be just a bunch of random sentences I string together and then call a poem, so let's just call it "thoughts".


Oh, how the heart would end itself if held with no restraint! How it begs and pleads to end its own misery! In folly or in truth I do not know, for only those resting quietly may understand.

Would the knife push through the back if your fingers fell limp from the hilt? Would it make the desire to stop hurting end or would it only increase the misery, or bring you to feint in overwhelming agony?

If Hell is on Earth, what is Heaven?

Scream into the night, so that someone somewhere might hear. Yell until the veins in your eyes burn like fire through a gasline. Hollar until you buckle, falling to your knees crying for mercy. Bellow with all your might, your forehead touching the tiny pebbles of the ground, leaving bloody lines. Whimper, hoping someone hears you.

Suffer now so you may die later.

Rip at your chest to pull her away.

Rub the bags beneath the eyes so that they may carry the burden for you.

Beg for death so you may find life.

Listen for her voice so you might hear your scream.

Die in her arms so she might live in yours.