Number Thirteen

When you go mad,

You have elves working in your head,

And they can whip up everything you can think,

So I have made a castle in my head,

A castle made of everything lovers burnt,

A castle made of stars who watched us separate,

A castle made of tears that are dry now,

There are no bedrooms in this castle, just thirteen halls,

One for each day I have cried since you left me,

A castle where I sit in the middle of the main hall,

I know I am sitting here,

I can feel myself sitting here for hours,

But I am not here,

I am not in my mind, in a castle, 

Not in woods where poets and smart women go,

Not in a home where liars live,

I am nowhere.

Writers are highly narcissistic,

I would know that more than you,

My dissent into madness has just begun,

And I have started having theories,

I think we are all dead,

And we are being tortured for what we did on earth,

At least I am,

For this is not the life I was promised,

This is not the reality I was shown,

Blended in me since childhood,

Injected in me by daydreams,

False promises of love,

Everyone is a Dolphin,

Seemingly sweet but psychotic,

Everyone is a snake waiting for its prey,

Deep down I know we are still hanging,

By a threat that can very well be a noose,

Earth is much like the house of Burari,

And we are all dead.

We are made of death,

The iron in our blood,

The nitron in our DNA,

The calcium in our bones,

They all come from the dying stars,

We are all just coffins,

Carrying the dead stardust among us,

For thirteen billion light years.

My castle walls are shivering with nihilism,

With the hatred of the fake agendas,

Like friendship and humanity,

If we are all going to die,

Why am I crying for thirteen days,

Are these the same thirteen days,

That my culture asks me to mourn for,

When someone in my family dies,

Do we mourn when our will to live dies?

How eerie it is that every step that we take,

Just brings us that step closer to death,

So why not stop for thirteen seconds,

And ask ourselves,

Why love?

Why let yourself get hurt?

Maybe there is a way to heaven,

And it is to make castles in your head,

And sit in the middle of the hall,

And never sleep because then it all resets,

You start living again,

For thirteen more weeks,

Until someone else comes,

With thirteen red roses,

And thirteen new promises,

And thirteen phrases of optimism,

And thirteen kisses on your neck,

To threaten the thirteen theories that you made,

You stop to think again,

You give up the throne to your own castle,

And give in to the lie of life,

Thirteen is an unlucky number,

I feel said that you were born on thirteenth,

And I feel said that I wasted thirteen days on you,

Thirteen Ten Three Thank You!