smolsiegelord-blog

[smolsiegelord-blog]

Medication

It has never felt so real after taking it. The sadness, the sensitivity, the fragile yearning. The back breaking struggle for hearts that act like vases. Full of water and flowers with roots being chewed by tadpoles, crickets and wrigglers. I'm putting up with it, with pride, with anger, vengeance, breath by breath, still beating, still knowing. Im alive and too proud to accept defeat as it fondles my dignity. Falling asleep with my teeth clenching, the girth of my attitude expands. Eyes suddenly see through waterfalls bearing dreams, unreachable, if and only if factors possible. It's always almost feeling that is always almost there. The bones coarse friction on wet hunger and pale gums singing my pains, picky diets, frequent naps, curating vanity versus power in cold rejection. I am perfect, destruction. rediscovering myself unfinished. unrefined...just exploring for all this time.

[smolsiegelord-blog]

A pretty bet

There’s a rush and a tinge of wanting to have an unhealthy obsession with luck. How the world will so easily cater to the cynical  and condescending. For just as long as one’s facade is attractive. Shallow mindsets are so easy to deceive. I’ll amass a social capital of bored hearts and idle minds. Fame will claw my way to adventures that I’ll never have to pay for. My presence will be a token of high esteem.

My puppetry will have the audience believing That I deserve their echoing attention. All I have to do is act cute, wear make-up, and always get everybody’s attention.

[smolsiegelord-blog]

Das Magic

Usually emotions would be accompanied with memory. Like the reason why you feel angry is because of the bitch who spreads rumors. Or happy when you get that arcade plush toy. I know that nothing comes from a vacuum yet There are mornings when I just wake up sad. That it’s all I know and it scares me because I can’t shake off how hollow my rib cage really is. The quiet becomes a ringing noise and then suddenly a light railway transit for dark recollections. It happens so fast yet the commute makes me sick. My only choice was to wait til the doors opened to a better station. Hopefully where versions of myself are much kinder to criticisms and coping mechanisms. Where my fixations create instead of despair. Because on this episode I’m struggling alone. and maybe in need of assistance of people willing to break a reality I’ve accidentally conjured for myself...