The sunflower
So bright, so brilliant
Every flaw so apparent
Along with its perfection
…

Lying underneath each splendid spectacle of art, just beneath the skin, an ink blankets my veins, bringing peace to a mind that has longed for this day. A day that until now, was scattered about
…

The things that occupy my troubled mind
Those things right there in front of me
It is that which I pine the most often for
At night, I lie there awake, just trying to sleep
…

It’s not enough, no, not just one
I need it all, or less come all undone
Everything I see, of that which I adore
One isn’t sufficient, I always need more
…

It all feels better now
The insufferable release
The inane thoughts alone were a high
At a point, I could do no more
…

Wading through such a torturous hell
Enlightenment, it’s all of which I now seek
With an anguish so annihilating
Imploringly I crave, an inconceivable release
…

Oh- the weight, the weight and what it could do
As my soul would severely suffer, hideously an ugly bruise
The sting of my salty tears, often a melancholy excuse
My obsessive thoughts- they ruled, always a muse
…

And as I turned around, I was presented by darkness, nothing but a void of absolute emptiness, staring me in the face, as if death had rang the bell early and was welcoming me home, after a lengthy voyage
…

Oh my, how it burns
As if it's on fire
It doesn't happen often
Maybe once every hour
…