Yesterday and Today

Hollow
You are what I say you are
you cannot control me
If you are a typewriter
so be it
if you are a messenger
so be it
but I am the one in command
You do not push or pull me
Only I am the master of my fate

There is no magic,
no formulaic answer for when the writing comes.
Either you sit down to write or you convince yourself that the writing will not come because you are no genius.
No
you are no genius.
But the writing will come.
You simply let your fingers move and whatever thoughts you are having-
let them be free
each syllabic movement a flutter of wings
an inch closer to the sun bright skies
and unburdened gliding.
Make no mistake,
the ability is within
but it has no control-
you must bring it to manifestation.
Guide your ship into harbor O' Captain,
you must use your hands to steer
merely thinking of survival does not do the job,
actions are the savior.
Action

Exhausted
victims in a world where everyone is pitiable
breathing is laborious
asleep or awake

out of time

Black Hole

Depression is a black hole
A vortex that sucks energy and light into its depths,
never changing,
never brightening,
only consuming.
Nothing escapes the dark,
nothing penetrates the vastness.
Beams of joy may be thrown into the pit
but nothing destroys the shadows.
Chase the darkness into crevasse and crack-
when the light begins to fade,
it will emerge anew.
Nothing stops the emptiness
or fills the hollow void.
Happiness fades,
pain scars.