...inside forever

"...inside foerver"
...inside forever however, we never remind ourselves of the blind temptations that linger on the edges of depression for it is we that lie at the center of what it is to be and never do we find ourselves where we should be except there in that moment that seems to last for nothing but as a memory of pure nostalgia, though amensia drenched insomnia forces us to forget as the dark rings crop around things we finally see and has eluded us for so long, we finally remind ourselves just so we can forget inside forever.
-Armando Torres

I'll be There Soon

"I'll be There Soon"
Oh how the twisted and contorted pictures of the world before my very eyes have unraveled into the very words that my mind has painted alive. It must have been the beer; its clear now that it was the liquor; I'm sure it was the shrooms; I know now Ill be there soon but for now I ride the high tide through these strange rainbows and butterflies, these loud sounds and white lights. I sway off the walls and fall upward toward the heavens as my eyes roll backward, the world seems to be playing with me, the stars and moon, I know now Ill be there soon. Where is it that I find these wonderful places, in all the faces, in between the spaces, somewhere crazy because these little pills sit still until I find my third eye to solve my problem of balance, at first glance my first chance is walking sideways on my wall but just fall and crawl to where I end, cause I aint immune. I know now Ill be there soon.
-Armando Torres

another thing

"another thing"
The same monotonous morning, the same damn buzzing of the clock, the same fucking feeling of falling in the same spot. I can't seem to find the meaning in my mornings anymore except for when I realize there isn't anymore; so there I stay as it comes to this and dissolve away another day tasting only the salty remains of another pointless day. I lose another part of me to the monotony of time, ticking the seconds away to a place forever captured by the meaningless reality of now as I do nothing but lie in bed unraveling the fabrics of my existence to reveal only that hollow part of me. The worn wear of my blanket and bed, the pillows and ringing in my head are all thats left of me here in these mornings. The crumpled mess of sheets and clothes remind me of another monotonous morning, remind me of all but another thing.
-Armando Torres