Cloudy Clown

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	Thoughts from the soul.
	Army of me
	Healed.
	Shamelessly, shamefully open.
	Growing numb emptyness.

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Cloudy Clown

01-06-2016

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What everything means.

To speak freely to me,
means to write my poetry.

And even though, at moments it fucking hurts,
inspire others with your words...m

Search for ways to get it out,
write down in progressive ways what your soul wants to shout.

Do something that is for once not destructive,
find other ways and be productive.

Only with my writing, that method seems to work.
Although at all times I still feel like a jerk.

And honestly, I couldn't even tell you how or why.
I just seem to be doomed to fuck up, even before I think about giving it at least a try...

My writing could go on and on.
My life feels like the reflection of a neverending sad, sad song.

How do I change a pattern I have yet not figurred out?
How can I stop this insanity from screaming out so loud?

Through the day, I am mostly okay.
But as the day passes, along with the sky, my mood turns more grey.

And in the darkest of this silently screaming night,
Those are the moments that to you, I write.

To let you know that you are not alone,
although my heart is an empty home...

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