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my life is a war
my soul a weapon
my heart a rifle
pointed towards myself

melancholy is eating on my flesh
turning my thoughts into grey ashes.

all that i am crumbles in front of me
my sadness wrapped around my neck
trying to choke me.

i do not know anything of the world
except the sounds of birds around my mind
the cold water against my feet
wind making my hair move.

my life reaches from the past and into the present,
as have i lived but still not lived.

i am troubled by my own mind,
any thought or feeling i am trying to capture
keeps slipping through my fingers.