My Lamia

I can’t imagine,
a life without struggle.
One with work,
AND a life to juggle.

Bringing others joy,
is the path I have chosen.
Work every week-end,
a love life that’s frozen.

I’m not complaining,
I’m full of ammonia.
Because that is,
I have Anhedonia.

That’s why I can’t wait,
for the return of Lamia.
That what’s I call,
my good friend Cyclothmia.



Strange Pain Angels

Strange love and familiar pain,
are some things that I have been used to.
Are what’s left in this brain.
all that feels too,

Angels with broken wings seem my specialty,
not before but because of me.
They leave in silence want no trace of we,
not even a fond memory.

They are sending a message,
through shared dance sorrows.
To give us the vestige,
to strive for tomorrows.

Do that and this,
mostly have bliss.
Beyond the black door,
no celebration to miss.