Gabhriel Londe

The stained dark beige walls stare at me.
They think they know me,
So they start to close in
To get a better look,
...

It has been quite a while since I have written.
I'm guessing that's partly because I have been so busy
Fighting my mind
And confronting my insanity.
...

It's dark outside,
But it isn't.
There is still an ominous red glow in the sky
At 11: 14pm.
...

When they had rid themselves of their first scapegoat
To send their problems away with it,
It came back as the demon Azazel.
...

How does one conform?
Act how everyone else does,
Never standing out.
...

The writing is nothing
When everything feels wrong.
Wordless,
Awake at night.
...

The Abstract,
The Madness,
The Spark,
The Way;
...

The boy tells me
That he’s not ready for it,
That he’s not smart enough.
He’s scared
...

Here we go,
On our way to Osage Beach.
I remember this ride being more fun,
More promising,
...

“Who are you here to see? ”
The aging 40-year-old woman asked me
From across the small waiting room.
I told her which doctor
...

I used to write much more.
At least 15 poems a week,
Constant pouring of raw thought
To page.
...

Welcome. Greetings. How do you do?
Let me introduce myself, I'm the hypnotist inside of you.
Now that we've met, let me make myself clear,
I'm not here to help; I'm here to generate fear.
...

See, I believe that every single day
We lose little bits and pieces of
Our souls;
Chips off the marble sculptures
...

It’s hard
To keep your head
On straight
When the world
...

In my darker times,
I remember myself
Pacing back and forth
In my backyard
...

There was this kid
We called Boog
Who would spend hours
In his front yard
...