BlackDayz

Tag: dark

  • She

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    She caught me on the street.She wanted to say,“Go fuck yourself”,ButI beat her to it.And so she did.

  • In the Yellow Maverick

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    Out on the open road,a young boy, should’ve been in school,instead, a passenger,riding down highways from one trouble spot to the next. We always left just in time,before shit hit the fan,before we made long-lasting friends,before report cards arrived,before we got comfortable,before we called it home,before we felt ashamed of who we were. We hit…

  • Road Rage Romance

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    Out on the highway,crossing the great American landscape,I had a girl with me, hungry and eager. Pulled in, took a piss, had a cig,got her some food. Back on the road, she excitedly opened the bag.“Where’s your food?” she asked.“I’m not hungry,” I said. Truth is, I wasn’t. “Well, then I’m not hungry…” she said,…

  • Tragic

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    The truth, so bitter,Provokes nausea, churnsIn your gut, a scenarioThat could have been bypassed. Vitality, entirely squandered,Did you presumeI’d remain in the dark? Those who place their trust,Find their beliefShattered by thoseUnfit for faith. Falsehoods and manipulationsOf reality have morphedInto the contemporarySermons, cloaking theGenuine truth. Furious, you seekThe culprits, andThey smirk backRight into your eyes.…

  • Broken

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    I am fundamentally broken In the hush of a thousand midnights, Underneath the star-pricked cloak, I confess to the silent cosmos, “I am fundamentally broken.” In the mirror of my soul’s reflection, There are cracks too deep to mend, A mosaic of shattered memories, A tale too fractured to end. In the orchestra of existence,…

  • Old

    Old

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    Maybe I’m stupid, maybe too hardheaded , I don’t want to give up I’m old, parts of me starting to sag, gravity is a bitch, so they say. Who are “they” anyways? These days, the cold wind cuts through my clothes, I feel the icy touch in my bones. Theres no escaping the cruel reality, I’m…

  • The door at the end of a dark hallway called judgement

    —

    by

    M.Hatter
    in

    You shuffle your feet with purposeful delay for insanity is not too far away The pain from your past paints the walls of this dark hall your conscious wont last Cold Shivers, run down your spine your guilt, has soured the wine From under the closed doors light spills out Wait, this can’t be happening…