Curse the poets blood.
No matter how much I cut myself, I cannot bleed it away.
Curse the poets skin.
I cannot tear it off, it holds everything in.
Curse the poets feet.
The more I try to run away, the more they dig in, rooted to the words that ground my life.
Curse the poets tears.
They provide no comfort. They blur my vision, wet my pages and smudge my ink.
Curse the poets mind.
At times I dream of throwing it all away. But I cannot differentiate between reality and figments of creativity.

Pack your things in a box painted blue
In a shoe box you found in the back of the closet
Your school bag and the purse your sister loved
We are leaving behind the memories
Leave these cold nights and drive through the woods
Find a lake to drown in and throw your family picture in too
Get out of the water still breathing
Still just barely alive
We can kiss under the stars
Love in the night as we leave everything we once knew
Home doesn't have to be a place
And it sure as hell isn't a person
But maybe the feeling you give me is
Lets thrive on nothing my dear
We can be more than just our family
Become the stars with me
I'd like to burn

I'm running.
I'm running out of patience
I'm running out of time
I'm running from myself
And All I do is cry.
I'm running on empty
I'm on autopilot now
Breathing has become a labor
And I just don't know how.
This pressure is so suffocating
I can't seem to smile
I just want to run
To Get away for a while.
But these chains, they bind me here
I can't let them down
But I can't save myself
I need you now.
This emptiness is killing me
I don't know where to turn
And so I'll run into the sun
And Away my soul will burn.

A leech
at the beach
left it’s home at the pond
and as a result
of the salt
lost its ability to bond

Along comes a bird
without word
thinking it a worm, it plucks
so learn not to roam
too far from home
even if your life *****