I am repulsive.

Am I really so consumed in my own problems that I don't even have the ability to listen to others and help them anymore?

Am I useless?

Is there any point to my existent?

Am I selfish?

Is it hard to spend time with me?

Who am I?

What is the point?

Is she right?

Time

The time is cold,

Yet nimble and quick.

Never growing old

Ready to trick.

Our young, naive souls

With time, try to mingle.

Time’s voice is silent,

No joyous jingle.

Leaves one bent

Figuring out why.

Time’s mask is dull.

Time whispers lies.

Pretends to lull

Then rushes by.

Leaving you behind.

Leaving you to die.

Yet still with our twisted mind’s

We try to control the powerful time.

Our hands try to grasp while our eyes try to find.

Our ears seek out some imaginary chime.

But as we search for the forever lost

Time squirms and giggles endlessly.

Once again we’ve been tripped and tossed.

Time leaves us behind, broken, skipping away merrily.

My mother hid the the wine.

My mother fucking hid the wine.

A humming bird flew up beside me and whispered a secret into my ear, "Your life is a lie, speak and live the truth" I then replied, "But why must I do this if the truth hurts so much?" The little bird responded in a rush, "If the world was simply honest and had a bit of trust perhaps confusion would lessen and there wouldn't be such a fuss. A search for the truth is what we all possess, and when the truth is broken mishap will process. Stand up, open your eyes, and breathe the truth. For the world will be less broken if the chain of lies ends with you."