((The following entries are transcribed from a waterlogged brown journal, found along with a dried blue pen, in an abandoned park bench in Southwark, London.))
01/13/??; 01:25 AM/PM.
It’s so cold.
The Arctic rains pour angrily, beating down in relentless torrents
The languid sky is shaded with an amalgamation of sickly grey
Under my tattered umbrella, I attempt to figure it out but I can’t
If the lost sun is falling out of its orbit, or just breaking the day
Perhaps I wasn’t meant to know.
01/13/??; 02:00 AM/PM.
Nothing but unadulterated trouble, problems arising from the start
A cautioned winter’s tale as thorny and ancient as Eros’ pierced heart
It warned, leave that wayward child to find its way in a crooked path
For avariced Hell hath no fury than wicked disappointment’s wrath
At my current state, I know they’re right.
01/13/??; 02:26 AM/PM.
So I shattered all the best of china dinnerware, and bent all the tines
So I melted my sister’s only set of crayons and lied to waste their time
So I played hooky, hung in alleys, and started a chaotic playground war
So I scorched half our house, maybe a pet, just for a speck of warmth
But that fire was just so pretty.
01/13/??; 03:15 AM/PM.
I plead and begged and beseeched, but unfortunately, to no such avail
It seems that my dearest loved ones wish for me to simply fail
Wounding thorns clung to my sullied dress like demented hands
For they’re the only company I find reassuring and I can understand
Hello darkness, my old friend.
01/13/??; 4:00 AM/PM.
I know I’ve been a guilty bastard, I’m all but holy, or God forbid, saintly
I’m a cragged diamond, cracking under the pressure of my turbid sins
My weak conscience wrestles and grapples with my slippery sanity
Perhaps this time, I’ll cease being the referee, let one of them win
But I know I’m not that strong.
01/13/??; 4:55 AM/PM.
Counting all my remaining days away on my bloodstained fingers
The tragicomedy death of my feminine art nouveaux still lingers
Withered skin falls in fragments, peeled from my chapped ivory lips
Catch it like fairy dust or white snowfall, and make a quaint wish
Snowflakes taste like faith.
01/13/??; 5:01 AM/PM
You’re lost, you’re lost, my scalding mind accuses, accrues, accosts
An inane foulness of its profoundness breathlessly traipsing around
I’ve been nothing to seeing stars and dottiness but a gracious host
Honestly, why dare I even complain, what dare I even maunder about?
I saw it coming from miles away.
01/13/??; 5:27 AM/PM
Why thou’st I abated thy tempt, thy lust, gluttoned thy forsaken monster?
Borrowed words I’ve spoken now, chagrined regrets not mine, all rust
I was caught unawares in a graceless predicament tryst lacklustre
I discovered amidst the fuss, I was never worth my weight in stardust
I’m so sorry, mother and father.
01/13/??; 6:00 AM/PM
As this wayward weather ages, the jaded hurricanes growing much old
That lush aftertaste of bliss’t twilight indented within the fiery cosmos
I nearly hit a brick wall staring upwards, waiting for comets to unfold
Once again, I’m stuck at a dead end, regent shadows my blanket close
Ah, so it was afternoon, after all.
01/13/??; 6:30 PM.
Cold…it’s so cold.
I wish for a coffee, chamomile tea, or maybe a chocolate chip cookie
The frosty mist from my mouth is actually my frozen soul leaving me
An ebony feather drops from my back, searching for my palace free
I will amuse myself with black burnt matches and burnt out reveries
Yet no chthonic demons cackle nor heavenly Seraphs beckon me back
Rejected by both sides of the cruel horizon, sky beat blue and black
Walking like a spectre, even though I know that I’m no longer breathing
Cold…I’m so cold…please…why won’t anyone just…please…let me in?
01/13/??; ??:?? PM.
I’m all out of ink.